


Parker Spirit

by WayTooTiredForThis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Civil War (Marvel), Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 29,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23939440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayTooTiredForThis/pseuds/WayTooTiredForThis
Summary: The Parker family has had bad luck since before Peter was even born, but now that he's Spider Man, he's determined to outrun it.  Opening right before Civil War takes place, this story follows Peter as he deals with financial hardships, political slander, and super powers.  Normal teenage stuff.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 60
Kudos: 121





	1. The Parkers

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this is my first time ever posting a fanfic. Really my first time ever writing a fanfic. I'm really nervous about it but I'm super open to any kind of feedback people want to leave. I just really love Spiderman tbh.

No one would describe the Parkers as rich, but they got by. Sure, May and Ben had to pick up some extra shifts when little Peter moved in but, “It’s worth every second for you bud.”

Ben never failed to remind Peter that hard work and perseverance paid off. No, they weren’t rich, but they were happy. Happy and proud of their two-bedroom, one bath, 7th-story walk-up in Queens that May and Ben worked their asses off for.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay kid,” Ben smirked, “here’s one I know I haven’t told you yet!”

Peter glanced up from the computer they had just finished deconstructing.

“Lay it on me Uncle Ben.” 

This was a typical Friday evening in the Parker household. Peter tinkering with something Ben had "rescued" from the trash somewhere, while Ben was regaling him with the same stories for at least the hundredth time, and May was burning dinner in the kitchen.

“So, this happened back when I was your age. Believe it or not, I was 14 once too kid!”

Peter just rolled his eyes and kept cleaning the exposed circuitry.

“Right, so I was 14 when your dad was leaving for college for the first time. It was all he talked about that whole summer. It was all MIT this, and engineering that from the day he got accepted until the day he left. He was almost as nerdy as you, kid.”

The love in Ben’s teasing wasn’t lost on Peter.

“So the day finally came to drive down for orientation, which didn't start until three, but Richard had us all up and out the door by eight. I thought he was just being crazy, but we hadn’t even made it out of Queens before we hit a pothole and blew a tire! Of course, your grandparents were just freaking out, trying to get it changed, making sure we wouldn’t be late, but your dad... He wasn't even bothered. He just shrugged and told me ‘that’s why we got up early,’ I asked him how he knew something was going to happen and do you know what he said? He said-”

“-That’s just our Parker luck, Ben. You'll get used to it.” 

Peter cut him off, grabbing a screwdriver and closing the computer back up.

“Huh. Maybe I have told you that one before.” They both laughed.

“Only a few dozen times.” But as much as Peter gave his uncle grief, he wasn't really bothered. He could listen to Ben’s stories a thousand times over.

Peter reached for the outlet and Ben hit the power button.

“Hey, it’s working! Great job Pete!” He ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That story didn't make Peter laugh anymore. Now it just made him angry. He hated his damn Parker luck.

It had been six months since the accident that gave Peter powers, and four since the mugging that took Ben. Any time Peter wasn’t blaming himself, he was blaming his ‘Parker luck’. Ben had always told him that being a Parker was something to be proud of, that he could do great things. His ‘Parker luck’ just meant he had to work a little harder.

It was Ben's lessons that Peter thought of every night when he snuck out to patrol. Ben had taught him that nothing was going to be handed to him, but he would fight tooth-and-nail to do what was right. He was a Parker, and that meant something.

Still, dread was slowly sneaking through the cracks Ben had left in Peter’s life. Peter wasn’t ignorant, he knew that it was hard enough for May and Ben to support him with both their salaries coming in, and he knew despite how hard May was trying to hide it that money was getting tight. He saw the extra shifts and the later nights; more and more frequently May still wasn’t home even after Peter had finished patrolling. Slowly, the cupboards grew emptier and Peter depended more on the government subsidized school lunches. May had no way of knowing that it was even harder for Peter with his new super metabolism. While she was going hungry, he was starving, but Peter didn't complain. Having bony ribs was probably just Parker luck.

The one time he asked her about getting an after school job, May yelled at him. She never yelled. She insisted that his school came first. That she would take care of him. That it was her job to worry about things like money. That they would be okay. Peter didn’t need his enhanced senses to hear the way she cried when she thought he was asleep that night. He didn't bring it up again.

Still, things got harder. May tried to play it off when she started always keeping the curtains open all day, never using the overhead lights. Peter knew it was because the power bill came back too high. He didn’t say anything. He just learned to get ready for school in the dark. When May started showering every-other day, Peter silently started leaving even earlier to shower in the gym before school, determined to do his part without making her feel guilty. And so they stayed, living right on the edge until summer rolled around.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Peter!” May greeted him at the door with a huge hug and an even bigger grin, “Congratulations on completing your freshman year! Honey, I’m so proud of you!” 

Peter mumbled a quick thanks, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he slid into the apartment. Despite having spent all day rehearsing this conversation in his head, it took all of his conviction not to chicken out.

“May, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He knew the anxious energy radiating off him was palpable. She furrowed her brow and walked to their old couch.

“Anything Peter, you know that. What’s up?” She patted the spot next to her. He sat down.

“I know when I asked you a few months ago you got mad and said school comes first, but I was just thinking that now that school is out, and because, like, I have all this new free time I could, maybe, I don’t know get a summer job somewhere and help out around here more? I just don’t want to be such a burden all the time and I-” 

“-Woah! Slow down, take a breath.” She grabbed his hand, rubbing soothing circles in his palm with her thumb. 

“Peter you are _not_ a burden. You’re my kid, it’s my job to take care of you. You could never be a burden to me. I know things have been hard lately and I’m sorry about that. I’ve had to take on more shifts recently, it’s just-" She paused. "Harder without Ben around.”

“I know. But I want to help.” He watched tears form in the corners of her eyes, wondering when they had gotten so tired?

“Besides, without school all day I’ll be bored to death! Having work will be good for me.” He forced a chuckle.

In the end, May agreed to let him look, but not without setting strict limits to how often he could work.

“You’re still a kid Peter, you should be spending time with Ned. Or maybe even Michelle?" She prodded him teasingly with her elbow before her serious expression returned. "Promise me you'll still take time to be a kid” 

"I will May. I will."

It hadn't even been week before Mr. Delmar hired him as a summer clerk. You’d never hear him admit it, but he, like most people, had a soft spot for the kid. The moment he was hired was the proudest Peter had felt in months, Spiderman's heroics included. If Ben had taught him one thing, it was that Parker luck was no match for Parker spirit.


	2. Peter's Bootleg Repair Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly a little impressed with myself that I'm posting a second chapter. I've literally never written anything like this before, but I'm having a good time and I really want to try and tell this story that's been bouncing around in my head. I promise there will be more plot stuff happening soon! I'm just terrible at cutting out fat so my intros drag on forever...
> 
> Also, if anyone has any tips on how to improve this it'd be much appriciated. I'm trying y'all

Peter’s first shift started that morning at eight, so naturally he was out the window by six with his suit on over his work clothes. That plan paid off since Spiderman managed to catch a purse thief- “hasn’t anyone ever taught you that stealing is wrong?”- and spent almost an hour wrangling a loose dog whose owner’s emphatic promise that “he doesn’t bite!” seemed a little biased, before shrugging off his suit behind Delmar’s dumpster and stuffing it into the bag he brought with him.

“Peter! I’m glad you’re here. And 10 minutes early too. Good kid,” Mr. Delmar laughed from behind the counter. “Can you go into the back and get me more salami? We’re almost out up here.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

And thus Peter’s new normal was established: Working at Delmar’s during the day and patrolling nights and weekends, with the exception of Tuesday nights which was the one evening May had off and was strictly reserved for family time. May always made a point to remind Peter that she was “never too busy to spend time with him,” and he loved playing card games and watching cheesy movies with her.

It was hard keeping his patrolling injuries hidden from May. It helped that he had enhanced healing abilities and a well established precedent of frequent injuries due to “clumsiness” (read: Flash). Still, every time he laid awake at night nursing a new broken rib or black eye he wondered if he was doing the right thing by not telling her. Then he would wake up and see the bags under her eyes and the bone-deep tiredness she hid behind loving smiles and his resolve to keep his secret only strengthened. She didn’t need any more stress in her life.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before long, Peter had a new job at Delmar's.

“Hey Mr. Delmar, how long has that been like that?” Peter nodded at the security camera that was dangling uselessly from fraying wires, his mind already racing with ideas.

“I don’t know. Couple months? I keep meaning to get it fixed, but it’s so damn expensive.” 

“Can I take a look at it?” Peter asked excitedly, the chance to fix things always had his curiosity piqued.

“You can’t make it worse," he shrugged. "Knock yourself out kid."

Less than an hour later Peter was grinning at a flabbergasted Mr. Delmar as he showed off the new and improved device. 

“So, I wanted to do more, but I was really limited by the parts I had here. The system should run a little more efficiently now, and I cleaned up the camera, but I could make it so much cooler if I had more parts. I could bring some tomorrow and try again?” He had forgotten how much fun tinkering was. Since school let out and Ben wasn't around to 'rescue' old technology anymore, he hadn't had a chance to in a while.

“Kid, this is fantastic! I knew you were smart, but who knew I had a little Einstein working for me?” Peter didn’t notice the way he started humming the Little Einstein's Theme Song under his breath, more focused on not flushing under the praise. Peter _did_ notice the extra $75 Mr. Delmar gave him the next time he got paid.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part of Peter wanted to quietly ignore the mistake, but the part that conveniently sounded an awful lot like Uncle Ben won out. “Mr. Delmar, I think you gave me too much?”

“No I didn't, it’s for the camera repair. Ya know, a bonus?” He continued when he was met with a blank stare from Peter.

“Oh wow, thank you. You didn’t have to do that, I actually had a fun time fixing it.” Peter ran his hands through his hair.

“Of course I did. Besides, you saved me twice that much easily. Just take it before I change my mind.” 

Peter used half the money to treat May to Thai from her favorite restaurant that Tuesday. She kept insisting that it was too much, but once the food got there they just laughed and talked for hours. The pit that had come to permanently reside in Peter's stomach over the last months, for once was full.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Delmar flexed his newly repaired security camera to all his regulars, bragging about Peter’s tech skills like a proud parent to anyone who would listen (and some people who wouldn't). It wasn't long before people started bringing in busted Stark phones and old DVD players to “Peter’s bootleg repair shop,” as Luis, one of Mr. Delmar’s other employees, had dubbed it. Really it was just an old card table Peter had set up in the back corner of the store. Mr. Delmar was more than happy to let him do it; he got a ten percent cut on in-store repairs, and most people bought food while they waited. It was a good system.

“Here you go, man. It should work now.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, seriously. My mom would _kill_ me if she found out I broke my phone again.” The kid, Peter hadn't caught his name, was probably only a year or two older than he was. “How much do I owe you?”

“Give me 20 and we’ll call it square.”

“Woah man, you sure?” It would have cost $20 just for a StarkCare consultation, and the repair would have easily been another $80.

“Yeah man. It really wasn’t that hard of a fix.”

As soon as the kid had left Luis came over and elbowed Peter in the ribs.

“Niño, you _gotta_ work on your business acumen! You could be making bank here, I’m just sayin’.” Peter just rolled his eyes.

“Just cause Stark charges way too much for repairs doesn’t mean I have to too."

“Whatever man. I’m just trying to help you out.” He threw his hands up in mock defeat and went back to stocking shelves.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

As the summer passed, life got a little easier for the Parkers. Showers once again became a daily occurrence, and the fridge slowly filled back up with food. Peter found himself especially grateful for the latter, seeing a marked increase in his healing rate as soon as he started eating in normal teenager quantities. It might not have been as much as his super-metabolism demanded of him, but he was satisfied with the improvement. 

Still, with August drawing ever nearer, Peter found himself worrying more and more about what would happen when his Sophomore year began. Peter’s enrollment to Midtown was fully covered by scholarships, and his lunches covered by the New York State Department of Education, but even without those additional costs there would be trouble. Part of Peter’s money from Delmar’s was paying rent. Peter knew how sensitive Aunt May was about their financial situation. No matter how many times he insisted that he loved working at Delmar’s, that it gave him a chance to play around and repair things, that he was _happy_ to help, he could still tell that she felt like she was failing him somehow. It broke Peter’s heart, but it didn't make him worry any less about the fall. Would May let him keep working? If she did he would have to seriously cut back on his time as Spiderman to make room. Peter wasn't even sure he could cut back on patrol. Partly because Spiderman had started to make a name for himself, to mean something to the people of New York, but more importantly because he was a part of Peter, and the thought of giving him up seemed impossible. He couldn't let Parker luck take Spiderman away too.


	3. Call Me Spiderman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who knows me at all knows my fatal flaw in writing is the editing. I literally can never stop editing anything I write. It's kind of terrible. In english class I used to literally have folders full of assignments I had already finished but never turned in because I didn't think they were right yet. This was, of course, a terrible idea because then I got zeros on everything. This is just to say that actually posting things is hard for me. I think I'm helped incredibly by the ability to still edit chapters after I post them, but it does mean that I edit every previous chapter again before I post a new one.
> 
> It's a terribly inefficiant system, and if anyone has advice on how to kick this psychological habit I'm open to suggestions. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoy yet another chapter where-in nothing happens because there really isn't any plot until Tony shows up in the fall. (Which I promise will happen next chapter! I'm just trying to stay as true to the Homecoming timeline as possible)

As frequently as Peter started worrying, he never had time to wallow in it for long. This time he was interrupted by someone shouting in the street. Springing into action, all thoughts of school and money trouble were left on the rooftop behind him. It was one of Peter’s favorite things about being Spiderman. Spiderman didn’t worry. He didn’t have the time to; he analyzed things rationally and did whatever was needed. Today what was needed was for someone to break up a fight between a tourist who “I _saw_ steal from me, the sticky-fingered bastard!” and a local hot dog vendor who “is totally crazy! I didn’t even _touch_ his damn tip jar!” In the end Peter had to web them both to a bench before someone actually got hurt. 

“You two could use some serious couples counselling, I don’t even know where to start here.” In the end he decided to let the police sort it out, and made a hasty retreat back to the rooftops at the sound of sirens.

Spiderman had yet to have a real interaction with law enforcement, and he wasn’t eager to start now. His first few months as a vigilante, he found that he was just an urban legend in the eyes of the public. It was kind of fun being a cryptid force of chaotic good, but as time went on his reputation slowly grew. At first it was a series of tweets with blurry photos debating his existence. The believers dubbed him ‘sticky man,’ for his sticky webs and his apparent ability to stick to any surface. That was the moment Peter decided to come out of the shadows a little. To set the record straight.

“I'm not in it for the glory, really, I'm not. But I’ll be damned if people go around calling me ‘sticky man.’ Seriously. That’s awful. Call me Spiderman, I mean, I have a big spider right here on my chest. I know I’m not an artist, but it’s kind of hard to miss.” He explained, very emphatically, to the group of teenagers who had just asked 'sticky man' if he could do a flip for them.

It wasn’t too long after that when the first ‘real’ news article came out about Spiderman. Okay, maybe it was a Buzzfeed article called "15 Pictures That Prove Spiderman Is Real," and maybe four of the pictures actually weren't even of him, but it still meant a lot to Peter.

The increase in notoriety had a couple of interesting effects, his favorite of which had to be the YouTube compilations. His least favorite, easily, was the Daily Bugle articles labeling him “a menace to society.” He had read the interviews from officers condemning “vigilante actions,” hence his respectful distance from the law. But by far the oddest effect of his every-growing fame was that people started trying to give him things.

The first time a mugging victim offered Spiderman money for saving her, he was so shocked he stumbled over himself for a full minute before swinging away out of sheer embarrassment, but it kept happening, so he got better at responding.

Sometimes he got offered food, and as unheroic as it felt, he usually accepted it. Patrolling took a lot out of him, and any food he got for free was food May didn’t have to pay for.

It didn’t help that the first time he was offered food during patrol he denied it and ended up passed out on a rooftop overnight from some mixture of overexertion and hunger. Ned covered for him, telling Aunt May that he spent the night over when she freaked out to find his bed empty after her 2 AM shift ended. It wasn’t a mistake he was eager to repeat. 

He didn’t like lying to May or Ned, whom he told that he was out at the library and just “majorly lost track of time” when he asked where Peter really was that night. He knew Ned didn’t believe him, but he also knew that Ned wouldn’t push him on it. That was part of what made him such a good friend; he really believed in Peter. He still got invited over any time Mrs. Leeds made chicken pot pie or there was a new Lego set to build, even though Peter hadn’t been able to return the gesture for months. Ned was the only person besides May that Peter ever seriously considered revealing Spiderman to.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Ned.” Peter’s shoulders deflated as he blew air out through clenched teeth.

“Peter! I’m so glad you called man! I haven’t heard from you in like weeks!” Peter knew for a fact that he had texted Ned five days ago, but his enthusiasm was too endearing to correct.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just been busy. I’m sorry dude.” Peter stifled a groan as he slid down the damp alley wall. He really _had_ meant to call, but patrols had become more and more hectic recently. Something about the August heatwave seemed to be making people even more violent than usual.

“It’s cool, I get it. Don’t let Mr. Delmar work you too hard though, summer’s almost over! We gotta make this last week count! You still coming over Thursday? My mom said we could get pizza and they just added _The Force Awakens_ to Netflix. Plus, my sister’s spending the night at a friend’s house so we’ll basically have the place to ourselves!”

“Pizza and Star Wars? You know I’m there.” He started to laugh, but a sharp jolt of pain made him think better of it. Right before he called Ned, Spiderman had been breaking up a little gang fight. He managed to web up all the guns pretty quickly and was in the process of restraining everyone involved when someone he hadn't sensed in all the chaos stabbed him. The cut was shallow but “Rude! And also, **OW!** You can’t just go around stabbing people. That’s so not cool!” He punctuated those last two words with well placed webs to both of his assailant’s hands. 

“Oh great, I was so afraid you were going to bail again. Or, like, um... What I meant was just like, I get that you’re busy it’s more just that I miss you and-”

“I’ll be there Ned, I promise.” Looking down, Peter realized that blood was still slowly oozing from his side. It was a little concerning. Did he eat lunch? He was pretty sure he had breakfast. That _had_ been today right? But lunch? “Hey I gotta go man. I’ll see you Thursday.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------

He told himself it was for Ned’s protection: keeping his identity a secret. That by keeping his personal life separate from his super life he was removing a target from the backs of the people he was closest to, but deep down he knew that was bullshit. Telling the people around him, telling Ned, would only help better prepare him for the inevitable day when something did happen. Still, that was what Peter told himself every time he hung up the phone instead of asking for help. 

That Thursday as he stared at Ned's bedroom ceiling listening to him snore, he admitted the truth to himself. That Ned idolized Spiderman, and _that_ was why he couldn’t bear to say that it was actually just Peter behind the mask. On the surface, it should have made revealing himself all the more compelling, but Peter was afraid. Afraid that Ned only liked the suave, quippy Spiderman from the YouTube clips he was always sending Peter. Afraid that seeing how often Spiderman made mistakes and got hurt would break the illusion of heroism he had built in the public eye. Afraid that he would be a disappointment. Peter didn't really feel like a hero. There was always a part of him that knew he was being crazy, that Ned would be thrilled to have a super powered friend, but the fear from won out every single time.


	4. And Then Tony Stark Showed Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me a minute, and I'll probably (definitely) keep editing it while I work on the next chapter. I just really wanted to make sure I kept posting things. I hope people don't mind that most of the dialog is ripped straight from CA:CW. It just made more sense for me to do it that way. I'm not planning on writing the rest of what was actually shown in the movie because I'm basically trying to fit this into the preexisting canon for now. That said, I'm definitely taking some liberties with the timeline bc can anyone honestly tell me they understand the Spiderman timeline? This fic puts Civil War at the very start of his Sophmore year, the same year that Homecoming takes place even though I _think_ Civil War actually took place at the end of his Freshman year? I'm not really sure tbh... I'm just doing what makes the most sense to me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome

Right before school started May, Peter, and Mr. Delmar had come, surprisingly painlessly, to an agreement. Peter’s first focus would be his school work, but as long as he wasn’t falling behind (and really, how could he? Peter could probably pass most of his classes in his sleep) he would still be allowed to operate ‘Peter’s Bootleg Repair Shop’ on the weekends. May agreed that, in addition to being a pretty vital revenue stream for them, it was good work experience.

“Kid, you’re welcome to come make me money anytime you want!” Mr. Delmar had laughed as Peter nervously explained Aunt May’s proposed plan on his last full day of work. “Well I guess not any time… We wouldn’t want to upset that Aunt of yours." He winked. "But drop by whenever you can on the weekends, I’ll keep your table set up.”

Peter returned to Midtown in high spirits, happy with the balance he had struck between working, schooling, and secret vigilanteing. May had just gotten a promotion that came with a small pay increase. Peter was going to see Ned every day again. The people of New York were really starting to like Spiderman. Not even Flash’s best efforts to be a dick could dampen Peter’s spirit. It seemed like he had finally gotten his Parker luck under control, but it couldn’t be that easy. It was never that easy.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was only the second week of school when Peter came home to a bright yellow Audi parked outside his apartment. _Nobody_ in his neighborhood drove a car like that. He was telling May about it as he walked in only to look up and see—

“Hello Mr. Parker.” Tony was clearly reveling in how starstruck Peter looked.

“What… What are you-” Peter tried to force the nervous flutter out of his voice to compose himself. “Hey, um, I’m. I’m Peter”

“Tony.”

“What are you, what are you doing here?”

“It’s about time we met. You’ve been getting my emails right?” Tony lied easily, slipping Peter a few not-so-subtle winks when May wasn’t looking.

Peter agreed, because what else are you supposed to do when your personal hero, the super genius billionaire shows up to your house. Peter was even more confused when they started talking about his application to the September Foundation’s Grant Program. Peter could be a little forgetful but he was _pretty sure_ he hadn’t applied for any grant money. 

“What exactly did I apply for?”

“That’s what I’m here to hash out.”

“...Right.” Peter dumbly responded, too shocked to say much else. Tony, always trying to maintain control of the situation, looked at May.

“Can I have five minutes alone with the kid?”

And with that Peter was whisked into his bedroom. Before he could even tell Mr. Stark that he hadn’t actually applied for any grant money, that there must be some mistake, he was cut off. 

“Quick question of the rhetorical variety: that’s you. Right?” A big part of being a vigilante means being able to adapt to surprising and stressful situations, something Spiderman was pretty good at. Peter was less so.

He was quick to stumble over his excuses as Mr. Stark played video of a speeding car Spiderman had caught last week. “That’s all on YouTube. I mean, that’s where you found that? Cause you know that’s all fake. It’s all done on a computer?” Peter was trying desperately, and failing, to sound convincing, but even he knew to give up when Mr. Stark pulled his suit from where he had hidden it in the celing’s crawl space. He sat down. Deeply unsure about what would happen next. What did Tony Stark want with Spiderman?

“So you’re the sticky kid? Spider boy? What is it again?”

Peter hadn’t felt this embarrassed since Flash pantsed him in the middle of his middle school lunchroom. Here he was, face-to-face with his lifelong hero, who had just called him ‘sticky kid.’ God, bad branding is so hard to shake. 

“Seriously? It’s Spiderman.” 

“Not in that onesie you’re not.” Somehow the embarrassment got worse. 

A part of him knew that Mr. Stark was right. His suit, a red and blue thrift store tracksuit that he had sewn goggles into himself, was a little worse for wear. Especially after a particularly close call rescuing an older couple from an apartment fire a few nights before, but it wasn’t like he had the money to buy a new one every time it got damaged. He could barely even find chances to wash it without May seeing it in the laundry. He tried to think of a way to explain that to the richest man in the United States without sounding totally stupid. All his brain supplied was: “It’s not a onesie.” 

Tony asked if anyone else knew, if May knew about his secret. Peter was emphatic that she did not need to find out. 

“She doesn’t need anything else on her plate.” 

Then Tony started a barrage of questions into Peter’s powers. Where they came from, how they worked. The first thing he said when Peter finished answering was, “you’re in dire need of an upgrade. Systemic. Top to bottom. That’s why I’m here.”

He tried his best not to show it, but Peter was growing increasingly frustrated with the man. Who was he to barge into Peter’s life and insult his setup? Every part of Peter’s suit was a labor of love, and it was the very best he was capable of with what he had. Now Mr. Stark wanted to come in and insult it for not being as refined as the million dollar StarkTech he had? Peter was about to tell him off for being so presumptuous when Tony asked him another question.

“Why are you doing this?” 

The sincerity of it caught him off guard, and Peter’s anger died back down. All he could think about was Ben. Ben and his one million speeches on responsibility. On being good to the people around you. On doing what was right.

“Because I’ve been me my whole life, but I’ve had these powers for six months and now I have this responsibility. Everything has changed.”

“Sure, because you’re different.” Mr. Stark supplied with a wave of his hand.

“Exactly! But I can’t tell anyone so I’m not.” He took a shaky breath. “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen... They happen because of you.”

The look Tony gave him conveyed a level of understanding that he should have expected from someone who had been moonlighting as Iron Man for the last eight years. Like he understood Peter’s desire to “look out for the little guy.”

Just as Peter started to relax a little, to think maybe this is just some weird social call that superheroes do, Tony asked him if he had a passport. If he wanted to go to Germany. 

“I can’t go to Germany!”

“Why?”

There were a million reasons why he couldn’t go: the insane cost of a plane ticket, his duty as Spiderman, his job at Mr. Delmar’s, hell, he didn’t even own a passport. But what came out of his mouth was “I got… homework.” 

He didn’t show it, but Tony was a little impressed. It was almost humbling to see a kid tell him, _Tony Stark_ , no, because he had homework of all things. Very few people had the gall to tell Tony no, and the ones who did he tended to keep around. As admirable as he found Peter’s resolve, he still needed his help. Things with Steve were getting way out of hand and Tony needed all hands on deck. As soon as he mentioned the prospect of telling Aunt May, Peter relented. 

Tony’s phone rang. Peter couldn’t see the caller ID but he could see the tension rise in Mr. Stark’s shoulders when he hit decline. “Alright kid, I gotta run. Happy’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow at 7 so be ready. He doesn’t like to wait.”

“Mr. Stark, you haven’t even told me what we’re doing! What am I going to tell May? How am I-”

“I’ll handle it. Just get packed.” He said, his hand already on the doorknob. “Someone will brief you tomorrow. Okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Peter was still standing there, gaping like a fish when May came in with an avalanche of questions Peter didn’t have answers to.


	5. A Trip To Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this one was a hard one, ngl. I really struggled deciding how much of Civil War I actually wanted to include. I ended up writing more of it than I thought I would. I'm probably not going to write out all of the fight scenes b/c y'all can just watch the movie to see them. I don't feel like I have much to add there, and the next chapter is definitely going to end with Peter back in New York. That's where it's going to start having a lot more canon divergance. Most of the major Homecoming events will still happen, but after that who knows. 
> 
> Do y'all like the pacing of this? Is it too slow? I know the chapters are all really short, it's been a whole year now since the last time I wrote anything longer than a text message, so I'm trying to ease myself back into it (plus I've _never_ written anything like fanfiction before)

After almost an hour of telling May that he was just as shocked as she was, she finally decided to just accept the good news.

“Honestly Peter, I don’t really know what just happened, but it has to be something good. Right? I mean, a grant from Stark Industries! You've wanted to work there since you were seven! Let’s go out to Prachya Thai. We have to celebrate!”

“Sure May, let me put my school stuff up first. Leave in 10?” All he really wanted was a moment to himself. A chance to take a breath and try to figure out what the fuck his life was becoming.

“Sounds good. I’m so proud of you Peter.” She pulled him into a very tight hug before leaving him alone in his room.

Peter pulled out his phone to check the time when he saw the notification:

> **GMAIL** today, 4:32 PM  
>  **no-reply@tony.stark**  
>  **Cover plan for Aunt Hottie**
> 
> I’ve gotten the paperwork all set up on my end for the September Foundation cover. It was actually easier for me to make the grant money real, so you’ll have to come up with something in the next year we can patent. You're a smart kid, I trust that won't be a problem. In the meantime, tell your aunt that Happy will be taking you to the upstate compound this weekend for some mandatory grant recipient registration and training stuff. You’ll be back in Queens by Sunday evening at the latest so you can still get your homework done. 
> 
> If you have any questions, Happy is your point person. You should get a text from him soon.
> 
> T.S.

As if on cue, a text popped up, presumably from Happy:

 **Unknown Number** 4:48 PM  
I’ll be outside tomorrow at 7. Don’t be late.

As he was plugging the number into his phone, he heard May calling him. "Hey Pete! You Ready?"

“Yeah. Hold on, I’m coming!” Peter quickly rehid his suit and stuffed his phone back into his pocket as he rushed out to meet her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner ended up being surprisingly pleasant. As much as Peter hated lying, he was getting better at shading the truth. _It’s all for her protection_ , he told himself as he explained that new grant recipients were required to attend an overnight informational retreat at Tony Stark’s new compound upstate. Maybe it was because of how proud she was, maybe it was because of how trustworthy Peter was, but she didn’t question it too much. All she asked was that he stayed safe, and he tell her all about it when she got home from work on Sunday. 

Peter was about to lie down for the night when May asked him if he had finished packing yet, and he was struck, once again, with the realization that he had no idea what he was getting himself into. It wasn't like Mr. Stark had left him a packing list. After spending nearly thirty minutes looking up the three-day forecast for every major German city, and trying to dissect the one email he had for any clues about what they would be doing, he decided to text Happy.

 **Peter Parker** 11:33 PM  
Hey Happy! It’s Peter

 **Peter Parker** 11:33 PM  
I was just wondering what I should bring with me tomorrow

 **Peter Parker** 11:34 PM  
Mr. Stark didn’t really tell me what we would be doing, so I wasn't sure what to pack

 **Peter Parker** 11:34 PM  
Did he tell you what we would be doing?

He sat his phone down, resisting a very strong urge to send more texts. He stared at his ceiling for what felt like hours before his phone buzzed.

 **Happy** 11:40 PM  
I don’t know. Just bring whatever you usually need. You can figure this out.

 _Right._ He thought. _Whatever I usually need for my usual weekend trips to Germany with my lifelong hero. That stuff._

Peter ended up with his suit, all the spare web-fluid he had, two extra sets of clothes, his toothbrush, and his phone charger all stuffed into his backpack. He also threw in _The Catcher in the Rye_ because he had to finish it by Monday, and he’d been putting it off for weeks now. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

He never got around to reading it. As soon as Happy picked him up, his English homework started to seem incredibly trivial and banal.

“Hey Happy?” The man had put up the privacy partition less than ten minutes into the drive, after expressing a distaste for Peter’s vlogging. Peter honestly couldn’t care less. He was having the single coolest day of his life. Still, something was nagging at him, so he knocked on the partition. It cracked open slightly. 

“What?” 

“Hey I was just wondering. I mean, I told Mr. Stark yesterday when he came by. Which was so cool by the way! But how am I going to get to Germany? I mean, I don’t have a passport or anything.” Happy just rolled his eyes.

“Tony will take care of it. Don’t worry about it.” The screen closed again, and Peter was left to his vlogging. 

Peter figured out what he meant by that when the car pulled up next to a private jet, further cementing this day as the coolest of Peter Parker’s life. He had a million questions about everything that was going on, and no one to ask besides Happy, who seemed much more interested in taking a nap than telling Peter “Tony will fill you in when we get there” for the three hundredth time. 

When they finally landed in Berlin, Happy took Peter to the largest hotel room he had ever seen and told him to “suit up.” Peter was absolutely enraptured by everything he saw, but he hurried to get his old suit on, grimacing a little at the stale smoky smell it had after being stuffed into his backpack for the whole flight. He was in the middle of his pre-patrol mirror pep talk when Happy walked in.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“It’s my suit.” Peter replied, very matter-of-factly.

“Where’s the case?”

“What case?” 

Happy rolled his eyes again and opened the door to what Peter had just learned was _not_ a closet, but was in fact, a whole other set of rooms. He was quick to run inside and let the man know that he had found the case.

“A minor upgrade?” Peter didn’t know what he was expecting, but a brand new super fancy looking spider suit certainly wasn’t it. He was beyond overwhelmed, but Happy made it clear that they didn’t have time, telling the kid to hurry up and get dressed for the third time before walking out to get their car ready.

 _Holy shit_ was pretty much the only thought Peter had as he put the suit on. It was incredible. It fit perfectly, and it smelled like a new car. If this day got any cooler, Peter was convinced he would die. Peter realized that the suit’s slot for web fluid was conspicuously empty. Tony hadn’t been able to replicate his formula yet. It had taken Peter a full month of tinkering to figure out himself. He smiled smugly as he popped the canisters out of his old suit and into the new one before swinging out the window to Happy's car.


	6. We'll Call You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I'm going to upload a chapter _not_ at two in the goddamn morning, but that day is not today. 
> 
> Please please please leave any thoughts you have in the comments. I'm really trying to improve my writing, so if you have any comments/questions/criticisms, don't hold back. I promise you won't offend me! :)

Happy dropped Peter off with what had to be the oddest group of people in the world. He recognized Black Widow and War Machine, and of course Iron Man, but he had no idea who the other two people were. As curious as he was about the man with the purple skin who was _literally floating_ next to him, like that was no big deal, he could tell that everyone else was far more preoccupied with strategizing than introducing themselves. Tony was already briefing them as Peter walked up.

“I hear you Nat, I do. I get that none of us wanted things to go this far, but Ross gave us thirty-six hours to bring them back, and right now that’s the only way to minimize damage. The UN is already calling for their heads, but if we can get Steve to see sense and cooperate then I’m sure I can get them to reach a compromise we can all live with.”

“And if we can’t?” Natasha asked.

“Then that’s where you guys come in. Steve is trying to leave the country, and he won't be doing it alone. We don't know much, but we do know that they’ll be trying to leave from here. This is the only SHIELD controlled airfield in the country. Nat, I want you out there with me to meet him. I want to see if he’ll talk, but I also want someone watching my six. Vis, Rhodey, you guys stay out of sight, but keep an eye on things from the sky.” They both nodded. “King T’challa, I get the feeling that you already know what you're doing.”

“That is correct.” His voice was level, controlled.

“Okay, that just leaves you Underoos.” He turned to look at Peter, who was quickly starting to realize how out of his depth he was. “You’re gonna be our secret weapon, so stay out of sight unless I call for you. If we do end up needing you, just stay out of reach. Web them up from a distance.”

Peter nodded dumbly before he finally spoke up. “Um, Mr. Stark… How am I supposed to web up someone like Capitan America?” The man was the literal embodiment of the American Way, and the prospect of trying to attack that made Peter's head spin.

“I don’t know. Aim for the legs.”

It was purely reflexive, a force of habit. Peter hadn’t even realized he was talking before— “because his shield is ze size of a dinner plate and he iz an idiot.”

Everyone stared at Peter, who had never been so grateful for a mask to hide how furiously red his face had become. Before anyone could think of how to respond, Peter heard voices in the distance.

“Mr. Stark, I think they’re here.”

“The boy is right.” Vision concluded. “Steve Rogers is less than two miles away and headed in this direction.”

Tony nodded gravely. He and Natasha walked out to meet them as Vision and Rhodey took to the sky. Peter hadn’t even noticed the other guy leave, but by the time he got his phone out to start vlogging again, he was alone.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Everything about the fight was thrilling and insane to Peter. He wanted to remember every moment of it, so he started recounting it to his camera as soon as he got back to the hotel room. He didn’t get very far before Happy came in and told him to quiet down. Peter, not wanting to bother the man any more, but also being _exhausted_ , decided to lay down for a nap. As his stomach protested, he realized he had failed to pack any food for the trip. He kicked himself a little, but he knew he would be fine. After all, he’d gone longer without food before. 

His ‘nap’ was interrupted the next morning by a knock on the door. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see three full room service carts outside his door. They were half way into the room when Peter realized what was going on.

“Wait hold on. I didn’t order any food!” Peter did _not_ want to get in trouble for racking up the hotel bill. Right then Happy opened the door next to his.

“I ordered it.” He reached over and grabbed a plate of food from the last cart. “You passed out before you could get dinner last night, so I figured you were probably hungry. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

“Yeah, I am. But this is insane! This has to cost a fortune.” He gestured wildly to all the food in front of him.

“Not really." Peter gave him an incredulous look. "Tony’s footing the bill. Just take it kid.” He said, going back into his room as quickly as he had come. 

So Peter did eat. He ate until he thought he might burst, then he packed up all the leftovers and put them into his backpack to take with him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flight back to New York was fairly uneventful, Happy slept most of the way, and Peter spent the whole time messing around with the new suit until they landed.

“We’re going to be waiting here for a minute.”

“Why?”

“The boss’s plane will be landing soon. I’m driving him back to the city with you.”

“Woah! That’s so cool! I haven’t seen Mr. Stark since he left in the middle of the fight. Do you know where he went? I was looking for—”

“Kid. Now’s not a good time to bring it up. Don’t bother him about it.”

Peter stopped talking, and stared at the ground.

Happy was right, it wasn’t long before another plane landed and Tony Stark got off. He walked straight over to Happy and whispered something in his ear. Peter could have heard it if he tried, but he didn’t like using super hearing to snoop. It didn’t feel like a responsible use of his powers. The three of them piled into the car and started the drive back to Queens. 

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Peter couldn’t stand the silence any more.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony looked over from his phone but didn’t say anything. “Did we do the right thing?” 

Peter could feel Happy shooting daggers at him with his eyes in the rearview mirror, but Peter had to ask. The coolness factor of the whole trip was starting to wear off, and he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he had actually attacked people he considered heroes.

Tony sighed and set his phone down. “Kid, I wish I had an easy answer for you. We did what we had to do, and things would have been a lot worse if we didn’t.”

“I just- I thought you and Steve Rogers were friends. I don’t understand why the Sokovia Accords changed that.”

“Me too kid. Me too. Listen, you should just stick to the little stuff. Saving grandma’s from burning buildings and rescuing kittens. It’s way less complicated that way.” Peter started to ask another question but Tony cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. Aren’t you a teenager? Shouldn’t you be on your cellphone or something?” He put on a pair of sunglasses and went back to his work, making it clear that their conversation was over. 

There was another thirty minutes of silence, this time, surprisingly, broken by Tony.

“I was impressed, you know? And that’s not an easy thing to do.”

“Impressed?” 

“With your webs. You said you made them yourself right?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Ye- yeah I did. I mean, I do.” 

“Well I spent almost two hours in the lab trying to recreate them when I was working on your suit, and I wasn’t even close to matching your elasticity or tensile strength. What’s your secret?”

“A good magician never reveals their secrets.” 

“I thought you were a scientist, not a magician. And science is all about sharing.” There was a beat of silence. “You should come by the tower sometime and show me.

“Are you being serious right now? Mr. Stark that would be amazing!”

“Okay kid, simmer down. Don’t make it weird. You have to come by sometime for your grant proposal anyways. We’ll call you sometime and set it up.”

Eventually Peter started to recognize the buildings they were passing, so he pulled out his phone to let May know that he would be home soon.

 **Peter** 10:49 PM  
Hey, I’m almost home. I’ll see you when you get off work

Tony saw Peter’s phone and offered to help make a “video alibi” that Peter was _definitely_ going to show Ned at school on Monday. They finished as Happy pulled over in front of Peter’s building.

“Thanks for your help kid. You better take good care of my suit. I don’t want to see it looking all gross like your old one.”

Peter honestly thought that he might cry. “I can keep the suit?”

“Yeah, that’s what we were just talking about.” He kept talking, but Peter wasn’t hearing any of it. All he heard was that this incredible new suit was his to keep.

After an incredibly awkward not-hug, “I’m just getting the door for you. We’re not there yet.” And a promise that “we’ll call you,” Peter was left by his apartment with a brand new suit, once again wondering what his life had become.


	7. Decathalon Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I'm a little unsure about this chapter, particularly the Flash parts of it all. I feel like he might have come off as a little more cartoonish than I intended for him. I was really going for that classic 'Flash is a bully' vibe, but also I want him to be a semi-realistic character. Like, he is also a child. Just like Peter. I guess the part I was really struggling with was his whole motivation for bullying Peter. As someone who went to a hella nerdy highschool, just like Midtown, everyone who ever bullied anyone else had a much deeper motivation for it than just 'he's a nerd!' I went with a kind of jealousy route because it felt the most classic, but I'm not sure if it translated. All this to say, if you actually managed to get to the end of this very long note, leave a comment with _any_ advice/criticisms/thoughts you have, and I'll totally consider them when I inevitably rewrite this chapter.

Peter was starting to think he had been forgotten about. One week had passed, seven days, and there had been _no calls_. He had sent Happy thirty-seven texts only to receive zero replies. He told himself that Mr. Stark was just busy. He had, after all, seen the craziness the Accords had created all over the news, and it made him eternally grateful that there weren’t any kind of reporters at the airfield for the fight. Spiderman had managed to escape all the chaos without anyone else ever knowing he was there. Still, the masses of politicians calling for all Super Powered individuals to be indexed and subjected to complete governmental control was making Peter increasingly nervous. All Peter could do was _pray_ that Tony Stark wouldn’t give up his identity. Peter didn’t realize that he had no reason to worry. He was about the last thing on Tony’s mind at the moment.

As days went by without the government knocking down his door, he began to relax a little. After a week, he realized it was basically like nothing had happened at all. It was a little bittersweet at first, but eventually Peter decided that he preferred the humble status of “friendly neighborhood Spiderman” over the apparent chaos of dealing with the Avengers.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

That didn’t stop him from showing Ned the video alibi he and Mr. Stark had made as soon as they sat down for lunch on Monday.

“Woah! Peter! What the hell? This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me!” Ned was absolutely beside himself. Michelle looked less impressed.

“It didn’t even happen to you, dork. It happened to Peter.” 

“Yeah, but now I’m best friends with someone who has met Iron Man! That’s still the coolest thing that has ever happened to me!” He responded. His enthusiasm for the situation was in no way impacted by her cynicism. “So does this mean you’re like, an intern for Tony Stark now?”

“I mean... basically. Yeah. Don’t tell anyone though. I kind of want to keep it under wraps.” He said the last part more like a question than a request. 

“Are you kidding me dude? I would tell _everyone_. You met Tony Stark! He said you did, and I quote, 'a great job!’ If it was me I would literally pay Betty to play that on the morning news. God can you _imagine_ Flash’s face when he heard? He’s always bragging about that one time he got to hear Tony Stark speak at that conference in middle school. He would die if he found out about this.”

“No, I know man,” Peter whispered harshly, “and that’s part of why I don’t want to say anything. It would just upset him, and there’s no point in poking that bear. Promise me you won’t say anything?” His eyes pleading for Ned’s silence.

“Promise.” Ned responded, very seriously. “But if Flash is still bothering you, you need to say something. You know Mr. Harrington would make him stop. He’s only like one discipline slip away from being suspended anyways.”

“It’s really not a big deal. It doesn’t bother me.”

Michelle snorted her disbelief, but didn’t say anything. 

Ned managed to keep the internship secret for three days.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Peter! Decathlon practice after school. You’ll be there. _Right_?” Liz asked very pointedly as she walked past him in the hall.

“Yeah. For sure.” They were less than a month into school and he had already missed practice twice because he had gotten caught up patrolling. He felt bad about it, but he also felt justified. If they knew the responsibility that was on his shoulders, they would understand. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“What are you talking about? The answer is totally B! You forgot to count the water as your limiting reactant.”

“Oh shit, you’re right!” Ned moaned. “I did the exact same thing on the homework last week! I’m an idiot.”

Peter put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not an idiot, that’s a super easy mistake to make, and it’ll only count for like, two points off. Max.”

“Actually,” Michelle called from three doors behind them, “You’re both idiots. You walked _right_ past the practice room because you were too busy comparing answers to questions on a quiz you both already know you passed.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Penis!” Peter stopped walking. He’d realized a long time ago that it was easier to just let Flash do what he wanted than to try and run. Of course, when Flash started harassing Peter back in 4th grade, he was just a scrawny kid who stood no chance in a fight with anyone. Now he could take Flash down with his hands tied behind his back. He didn’t though. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Penis look at me when I’m talking to you!” He turned to face him. The hallway was empty. Practice had ended ten minutes ago, and everyone else had gone home. The only reason Peter hadn’t left yet was because he was on his way to the bathroom to change into his suit.

“What’s up Flash?” He tried to sound casual.

“Why was Ned telling people at practice that you know Tony Stark now?” 

“I don’t know. I told him not to say anything. I don’t really know Mr. Stark, I just met him once at the training for my internship.” Peter wasn’t mad at Ned for telling people. He’d known that was going to happen before he had even shown him the video. Mostly he just wished that Flash hadn’t heard.

“That’s what I thought!” Flash sounded vindicated, like he had caught Peter in a lie. “You know I’ve met Tony Stark _three_ times”

“Yeah, cause your dad paid him.” Peter muttered under his breath.

“What did you say Penis?” Flash stalked towards him, cornering him between two sets of lockers. 

“It was nothing Flash, don’t worry about it.” He tried to backtrack, not interested in getting punched before patrol even started. Flash was completely clueless about Peter’s alter ego, but he had noticed that he could get away with being a little rougher with Peter recently. That any bruises he managed to make always faded before anyone noticed them.

“At least I have a dad.” He shot back, shoving Peter into the wall. “You better quit lying to people, trying to make yourself seem all cool. We both know you’re nothing.” His words sounded angry, but his eyes just looked jealous. As much as Peter hated being pushed around, he pitied Flash.

“ _I_ didn’t even say anything about it. And Ned wasn’t lying.” As a fist collided with his face, Peter realized that was the wrong thing to say. It didn’t hurt badly, but Peter still let himself fall to the floor like a ragdoll. These ‘fights’ tended to end quicker if Peter just let Flash think he had won.

As soon as Flash turned the corner into the stairwell Peter was back on his feet running to get changed. He was suddenly very eager to go be Spiderman.


	8. Spider Freak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author offers half an apology and no promises to do better.
> 
> I know this update took a lot longer than the others, and I wish it hadn't. I could say I was busy (which is true), or that I'll try to do better from here on out (which is false), but really what I want to say is this: I never committed to any kind of update schedule for a reason. I know what kind of person I am, and that would make this whole thing feel more like a chore than a hobby. The truth is that the first seven chapters came out way quicker than I expected them to, and I would love to keep that momentum up, but I'm the type of person who would rather read a fic with a random posting schedule than one where every other chapter is titled "Another Update" or "The next one will be a real chapter, I swear," so ima write like that too.
> 
> Hope this doesn't come off as conceited or something, I know y'all probably didn't give a shit about any of this, but on the off chance that someone missed me... 
> 
> Anyways, hope y'all enjoy. Any suggestions/feedback/criticism is always appreciated!

For Peter to say he loved being Spiderman felt childish. Reductive. Sometimes it felt like Peter lived for Spiderman. When Liz got mad that he skipped practice. When dinner was rice with soy sauce _again_ , “just until Tuesday, the check comes in on Tuesday.” When Flash was pushing all the right buttons. When it felt like there was nothing good about being Peter Parker, he would put on that suit, and suddenly life was so much more. He would wave back at the people as he soared past, letting the cool wind wash away every bit of Parker Luck until only Spiderman was left.

That was certainly how he felt swinging away from Midtown. For the first time all day, Peter’s mind had a chance to stop racing as his body took over. He made his way over to 101st Avenue, like he often did, to surreptitiously check on Delmar’s Deli-Grocery before heading towards Forest Park. It wasn’t the fastest route by any means, but it was important to Peter that he checked on the people he cared about, so he took the extra ten minutes to head that way.

Despite what New York’s news coverage would have you believe, there wasn’t always someone in imminent danger on every street corner. Some days Spiderman didn’t _technically_ stop a single crime. That didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way to help out his borough though. 

Today he was cleaning up litter. He used to pick up trash when he walked passed it on the street. Then he realized he could sling it into the cans with his webs, which was way more fun and quickly led to the development of ‘trash toss.’ Peter was squatting on top of a light post across the street from the bottles and fast food wrappers he was trying to throw away, laughing along with the group of teenagers that had gathered to watch and video him on the street below. 

“Yo! Send me that video!” Peter yelled down after a particularly impressive throw where he managed to intercept a floating CVS bag with an empty can, sinking them both.

“Sure thing Spidey, you gotta give me your Snap though.” 

They all started laughing, but it made Peter think about all the Spiderman fan accounts that he’d seen popping up recently. Ned was following three different Twitter accounts that all claimed to be Spiderman. Maybe it was time for him to start a real one. Then again, with all of the chaos of the Accords, maybe now wasn’t the best time to start solidifying his brand. 

After a personal-record-setting eight item streak left the area mostly clean, he caught part a conversation happening on the street below.

“They think that if they pick up litter for us, we won’t notice that they’re all just terrorists in disguise.” He looked down to see two well-dressed men hurrying away from where Peter was hanging.

“Did you hear that France _and_ Italy committed to signing the Accords last night? There was another press briefing. One step closer to getting all the mutant freaks locked up.” His voice, a mixture of blasé and sing-song. 

“Good riddance!” 

They kept talking, but the only sound Peter heard was his heart in his ears. It was clear that they hadn’t _meant_ for Spiderman to overhear them, but somehow that made it hurt even worse. This wasn’t political posturing, some grand power play being made by the world’s leaders as part of the next great arms race. This was just two people, privately expressing a genuine belief. A belief that Peter should be locked up. That he was a freak.

He began racing towards nowhere in particular as his thoughts went back to everything he had been seeing on the news since his impromptu German vacation. People calling Tony Stark a murderer, calling Captain America a war criminal, saying that all people with superpowers inevitably did more harm than good. That anyone who wasn’t a “pure-blooded human” deserved to be locked up on principle. Peter knew that the last part was mostly a vocal minority, but it didn't make the ideologies they preached any less terrifying. 

It wasn’t like Peter was a stranger to bad press. The Daily Bugle was already dragging his name before they even confirmed his existence. He wasn’t much of a fan of their first article ‘Spider Menace: Myth or Reality,’ and the ones that followed could hardly be considered an improvement. Still, it was different when it happened face-to-face. The first time Spiderman got called a ‘freak’ on patrol is permanently etched into Peter’s brain.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was about a week before he even went to Germany. Peter was taking full advantage of the fact that he didn’t have any homework yet, using all afternoon to patrol. He had only been out for about an hour when he saw the smoke. He had never actually seen a burning building before, but he knew that smoke and sirens probably meant someone needed help. 

Over the past few months Peter had probably experienced more ‘firsts’ than he had since he was a literal baby, but no one else ever seemed to notice. People seemed to assume that every type of crime must be old hat to a vigilante, that nothing must faze him, but he hadn’t even had his powers a year yet. Behind the mask, he was just a kid. Sometimes he was just as scared as the people he was trying to save. 

That didn’t stop him from rushing towards the building.

He touched down behind the barricades the police had set up, and watched as the firefighters tried their best to contain the flames. He didn’t see any way he could help, and was turning to leave when someone’s voice caught his ear.

“Mr. Polanski? Has anyone seen Mr. and Mrs. Polanski?” The man was pushing through the crowd, only to be met with a sea of shaking heads that didn’t even look away from the building to answer him. He managed to catch the attention of a fireman who was standing by the truck gathering more gear.

“I can’t find my neighbors! The Polanskis. They live in 407. They’re an older couple, and they’re always home, but I can’t find them anywhere. I’m afraid they haven’t made it out yet.”

“Sir, we’re sending a team in as soon as the first floor is cleared. I’ll tell them to search 411”

“ _407_ ”

“Right.” 

As well intentioned as the fireman was, he clearly had more on his plate than he could handle at the moment. It gave Peter his way to help. Or at least a way to try.

He jumped the barricade and scaled the building with relative ease, slipping into a fourth floor window that had already shattered. As soon as he was in Peter realized that he had vastly underestimated how hard it would be to breathe inside a burning building. Peter coughed and crawled into the hallway, trying to stay below the worst of the smoke. That was where he saw them. Holding each other on the hall floor, heads bowed in a resigned form of prayer. It was a sobering sight that Peter didn’t have time to fully take in.

“Hey! Sir! Ma’am! I’m here to help you get out!” It only took a second for the shock to wear off and for the man to respond.

“Sorry boy, we already tried. The ceiling collapsed in front of the entrance to the stairs. There’s no other way out of here. We’re stuck.” His wife wouldn’t even look at him.

“There’s always my way.” He motioned for them to follow him back to where he came. 

Once they were standing by the window, and Peter felt like he could breathe again he explained how he would carry them down, one at a time, to the street below. When he reached for Mrs. Polanski’s hand, she pulled it back as if _he_ was on fire.

“Hold on just a minute,” she sneered, “I’ve read what Jameson says about you. That you’re some kind of freak. How do I know you won’t drop me on the way down?”

Peter froze. He had never met someone who actually believed the things that the Daily Bugle wrote, although he knew logically that someone had to. Still, here he was, confronted with someone who would seemingly rather burn to death than trust a ‘ _freak_ ’ like him to help. He had absolutely no idea how to respond. Fortunatly, he didn’t have to.

“Honestly, Ethel! The nerve you have sometimes still astounds me. He didn’t have to come up here to help at all, so we should be thankful. If you want to stay up here and wait for another way out then that’s fine by me, but I don’t see anyone else coming, so I’m choosing to have a little faith.” 

At his admonishment, she made an aborted whining noise, and nodded almost imperceptibly in concession.

Once she agreed to be carried, the first trip down was easy enough; by the time they reached the ground an EMT was already standing by to walk her to an ambulance. He tried to say something to Peter, but he was already scrambling back up the building again. It should have been another simple descent, but the fire was spreading. He crawled back inside to find Mr. Polanski collapsed on the floor from some combination of the smoke and the heat. 

_My God the heat was intense._

He threw the unconscious man over his shoulder, his only thought: “Please, please don’t die. Please, God, you can’t die.” Unfortunately, that meant Peter wasn’t thinking at all about the fact that he had never actually tested what the maximum temperature endurance levels of his webs were. Evidently, Peter learned on the way down, it was less than whatever temperature the now flaming wall was. The webs melted and the pair began to fall. 

Peter never figured out how exactly they made it down safely. Videos of the fire had popped up more than once on Peter’s timeline afterwards, but he could never bring himself to watch them. All that mattered to Peter was that both Polanskis were alive. On oxygen and leaving for the hospital, but alive.

“I still think Jameson is right, you know?” She sounded much less confident from the back of the ambulance. “You may have saved us, but you’ll always be a freak.” 

That was the last thing Peter heard as the doors shut at the vehicle began to move.

“You shouldn’t listen to her. You’re a hero. You know that right?” Another EMT said without looking over from her work. “Come here, you probably inhaled a lot of smoke. Let’s get you on some oxygen.”

Peter just shook his head and swung off, trying to ignore the pressure in his chest.

That brought an early end to the day’s patrol, but not to the day’s work. Too wired and dirty to go back home, Peter made his way to Midtown, stopping to pick up his backpack on the way. After a short, but reinvigorating shower he snuck up to the second floor chemistry classroom. The sun had long since set by the time Peter had finished googling and tinkering with his webs, but he was grateful for the distraction. He was _not_ going to let his webs fail him like that again.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just thinking about that day made Peter’s lungs feel heavy. May thought he had strep throat, and wanted to keep him home from school. He told her it was just a head cold and went anyway. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts of ‘ _freak_ ’ any more than he had to. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hand me that gray piece.” Peter and Ned were sprawled out on his bedroom floor, doing some hybrid of homework and a Lego set.

“What did you get for number eighteen?”

“Pretty sure it’s forty-three degrees.”

“Yeah, okay that’s what I got too.” He said, setting down his eraser.

If Ned noticed that Peter was being more quiet than usual, he didn’t comment on it. Ned put down his textbook and picked up his phone.

“Hey! Spiderman’s twitter account just posted another video!”

Peter stifled a groan. “You know that’s probably not _actually_ Spiderman, right? I mean, how would he get all those videos of himself?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it’s got cool videos of the coolest superhero, so I’m not going to complain!” It made him blush to hear his friend, even if unknowingly, compliment him so casually.

“I thought Iron Man was the coolest?” He murmured.

“I mean, he _was_. Until a new superhero showed up who is like, super down to earth, and funny, and nice. I mean, Iron Man can save the world and all, but it feels like Spiderman actually cares about us. I’ve been telling you how much I love this dude for weeks. You’re not seriously telling me you don’t think he’s awesome. Right? That would be like, friendship ending.”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, I’ve just been reading all the news articles about the guy. Some people think he’s sketchy.” Ned laughed.

“Sure, I’ve seen the Bugle, but those people are crazy. Since when do we agree with them?”

Peter just shrugged, so Ned went on.

“Nope. Flash and I both think that Spiderman is the coolest superhero, and if we agree on something, then it basically has to be true. He’s awesome.”

From there, Peter managed to steer the conversation back to Legos and Calculus before he got too emotional, but he never forgot the earnest look in Ned’s eyes as he defended Peter’s alter ego. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

He had held that conversation like a lifeline more times than he could count, and replaying it in his mind was what eventually grounded him again. Peter had been stopped on the roof where he was sitting for a while, but he still felt out of breath. From his private perch, he watched as the sun began to dip below the horizon. That was what finally jolted him into action. He pulled out his StarkPhone 2 Pro (another Uncle Ben dumpster rescue item) to check the time. Somehow almost ninety minutes had passed since the conversation he overheard on the street.

Peter wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible, but he decided the best next step was to sleep on it. So he made his way back home from what he eventually realized was the heart of Brooklyn, and went to bed. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

He dreamed of businessmen in nicely tailored suits stuck in burning buildings. Every time Peter ran to help them, he found himself stuck in a cage. His mind was filled with the laughter of people on the streets and the screams of people he couldn’t save until the light of dawn finally woke him.


	9. The Calm Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyyyy, so yeah, it's been a while, but you can totally expect another multi-chapter burst like the first one. I wasn't 100% sure I was going to keep posting just because school has started back up, but then someone commented asking if I was going to and that gave me all the motivation I needed to actually get this down.
> 
> This is mostly a filler chapter, as the title implies, that sets us up for next chapter when large portions of the plot of Homecoming take place. If you have any ideas for anything that you want to see, _please_ let me know!

Days slowly turned into weeks and the comments started to fade. That was the beauty of the 24 hour media cycle, even world changing policies couldn’t hold the public’s attention for long. So Spiderman went back to being the almost universally beloved hero of Queens. But the damage was done. Their comments lived on in Peter’s mind.

It was the third time this week that Peter woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, and it was only Thursday. His phone’s light felt much too bright for his eyes. It was 4 AM; he still had almost three hours before he needed to leave for school. As quietly as he could, he slipped on his suit and out his window. 

The best antidote to his nightmares, Peter had quickly found, was going back out as Spiderman. As counter-intuitive as it might seem to a casual observer, it was the only way Peter found real peace of mind. His nightmares all centered around Peter being a freak and Spiderman being unable to help the people around him, but every time he forced himself to go back out he saw how clearly those ideas conflicted with reality. It was a weird sort of exposure therapy. Every mugging that he stopped, every person he passed wearing homemade Spider Merch eased the buzzing of 'freak' he felt beneath his skin.

So in addition to his afternoon patrols, he had a frequent early morning rotation. In fact, recently it seemed like patrolling was all Peter ever did. Aunt May was starting to worry. Her fears were all the more founded when Peter dropped after-school band so that he had more time to patrol.

“No, May, everything is fine. I promise! I just, with all the internship stuff I’ve got going on, and I’m starting to have some real responsibilities. I just can’t do it all.”

“Peter, I know how much the Stark Internship means to you. I’m just worried about what you’re giving up for it. You know, Ned texted _me_ the other day to ask where you were. He said you stood him up for some study date. That isn’t like you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I told him that I got caught up with-”

“With internship stuff. Yeah Peter, I get it. But now you’re telling me you want to drop band too? I thought you really liked playing saxophone.”

“I do! I mean, I did. I’m just,” he paused, trying to think of a way to assuage her fears “I’m trying to be better about not spreading myself too thin. Shouldn’t you be supporting that?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he felt horrible about them. They worked though. She apologized, acknowledging how hard he was always working, and told him that she would be proud of him no matter what he did. She didn’t bring up band again.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Band might have fallen by the wayside, and decathlon practice was slowly on its way out too, but Peter had yet to miss a full weekend at Delmar’s. He tried to get in early Saturday morning, where he would find an ever-growing stack of broken tech waiting for him in Mr. Delmar’s safe. After people realized that Peter would only be working weekends, they had started asking if they could just leave devices during the week and pick them up on Monday. 

“Niño, welcome back! Someone brought a whole ass TV for you!” 

“Watch your mouth.” Mr. Delmar whacked Luis on the arm with his rag.

“Sounds like a challenge,” Peter smirked as he threw his backpack across the room, landing under his table. He went behind the counter, and there it was. The TV looked almost as old as he was, and it had a sticky note on it detailing everything that was wrong with it. He grabbed it and his tools without much thought and went back to his table.

“ **Woah** , you sure you don’t need help with that little man?” It was only after Peter set it down with a thud that he realized how heavy it probably was. “When did you get so strong?” Luis sounded genuinely impressed. Peter just blushed and turned towards his tool box.

“I work out sometimes.” He grabbed a screwdriver and started opening it up.

“I’m gonna have to stop underestimating you niño.”

Peter chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”

It took almost an hour before Peter was satisfied with the work he’d done on the TV set, and about another ninety minutes later he was finished with three phones, two tablets, a laptop, and a desktop. He got out masking tape and a sharpie, writing numbers on everything: his very informal method of billing. He picked up the two hundred dollars he had made last week, locked everything back up, and wished Murph the cat a happy weekend before he was out the door. 

May had the night shift on Saturdays, so Peter headed home to eat lunch with her before he went out. It was nice getting to sit down with her and eat; lately it seemed like their schedules never lined up anymore. Still, he couldn’t stop his leg from shaking. Every second he wasn’t on patrol felt wasted. Like he was never doing enough.

When May left for work, Peter was already gone on patrol, and he barely made it back before she did the next morning. He was hardly getting any sleep. He told himself that he probably needed less sleep than before, after all, a cursory google told him that spiders don’t sleep at all. The bags under his eyes told a different story. Even Ned was starting to get worried.

“Dude, I didn’t do anything when you dropped band–”

“–It was all you talked about for a week,” Peter protested.

“Sure, right, but I didn’t actually _do_ anything about it. But now you’re telling me you want to quit decathlon too?” Peter had specifically waited until they were in the library that Monday to tell Ned in the hopes that it would keep him from making a scene. It wasn’t working.

“You’re dropping out of like, everything, but somehow you look even more tired than before!”

“I’m fine Ned.” Peter leaned in, hoping to get Ned to lower his voice. “I’m just busy with the Stark internship. I really feel like I’m actually making a difference here, so yeah, I’m putting in a lot of time, but what I do is important!” 

“I know it is. Trust me, I do. But you’re important too, and you make a difference _here_ every day. You were like, the only person who would talk to me for all of middle school. You really think that wasn’t making a difference?”

“I–” Peter was a little bit floored. Ever since Spiderman had started to mean something, he had completely lost track of the notion that Peter Parker might mean something too. But here Ned was, reminding him in earnest that he had done good. Even without the suit.

“You’re right. I’ve been a shit friend." He paused. "I’m still leaving the decathlon team, but you should come over tomorrow. We can build your new Lego Death Star and just hang out?” Surely Peter could spend a few hours away from the suit.

Ned lit up at the thought. “Yeah! I mean, It’ll have to be after five, because of decathlon, but I could totally bring it over after that!” 

With plans set, it wasn’t long before Peter was done with homework, out the door, and in his suit again, already making up for tomorrow’s lost time.


	10. The Storm Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho Hooooo! Here we are, back again as promised. I already have the next chapter mostly written because it was going to be one big long chapter with this one included but I decided that it wasn't wumphy enough, and then when I went back and added more wumph it got too long, and it would have taken me days to edit as one unit so I figured I would split it up, put this part up now, then get the second part up later in the week. That way you guys get more content and I get less stress. LMK if you prefer more frequent updates or longer updates bc I'm willing to adapt if there's a strong preference.

As soon as the final bell rang on Thursday, Ned was at Peter’s desk reminding him about their evening plans. When they stepped out of the classroom, Peter turned towards the front of the school.

Ned looked a little sad, turning towards the decathlon room. “I still can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with Flash."

“You’ll have Michelle.” Peter pointed out. “Plus, you’re friends with Abe and Betty too.”

“So _not_ the point.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight Ned.” 

He got home with every intention of taking the night off from patrols. He’d clean up the apartment some, finish up his homework, God forbid relax a bit, but it wasn’t even four by the time he had scrubbed everything he could think of, and he was buzzing with energy. He tried to sit down, put on a cheesy movie, but it felt like too much and not enough all at the same time. Decathlon practice ended at four thirty, and Ned always picked up a pizza on his way over, so he’d get here around five thirty at the earliest. A quick patrol couldn’t hurt. Maybe that would settle him.

He was half way out the window before he remembered to put on the suit.

An hour had passed but the vicious thrumming, the one Peter had come to identify as his 'you're not doing enough' urge, was hardly ebbing. In that time he hadn’t done much: stopped a bicycle thief, accidentally webbed up someone who was jacking their own car, and helped an old Dominican lady find her way. It wasn’t that Peter was _wishing_ for something bad to happen, he just wanted this awful feeling to go away. He also wanted something more interesting than churros to tell Happy about.

As he was flying past Delmar’s, his suit flashed out its warning: **Web-Fluid Low**. He was changing out the canisters when something interesting caught his eye. A group of men entering the, definitely closed, Queens Community Bank.

“Finally, something good!” He thanked the universe. Thoughts of Ned and Legos were long gone. All that was left as he crossed the street were bank robbers and the blessed absence of the buzzing.

Despite the fact that there were four men breaking open one ATM, none of them seemed to notice Spiderman walk in. _What is this? Amateur hour?_

“Yo, this high tech stuff makes it too easy!”

“Told you it was worth it.” Another one smugly replied.

Peter tried to think of something cool to say while the last two started filling bags with cash.

“Oh nice!”

“We can hit like five more places tonight!”

He cleared his throat to get their attention. “What’s up guys? You forget your PIN number?”

When they turned around, he got his first good look at them. They were wearing Avengers masks that looked like they belonged in the five dollar bin at Party City. Spiderman prided himself on being quippy, but this was going to be too easy.

“Woah! You’re the Avengers. What are you doing here?” He yanked away ‘Iron Man’s’ weapon and slung it into ‘Thor’ in the chest.

“Thor. Hulk. Good to finally meet you guys! I thought you’d be more handsome in person.”

They just growled at him, clearly not interested in giving him anything to work with. ‘Iron Man’ started swinging at him where he hung on the ceiling. 

“Hey, what are you doing robbing a bank? You’re a billionaire!” He was met with a fist to the face in lieu of a reply. 

Before he had a chance to regain his bearings 'Captain America’ hit him with a purple beam from one of the previously discarded weapons. It didn’t hurt per se, but it was a little frightening being tossed around like a rag doll. He wanted these guys webbed up, so he could get a better look at whatever weapons they were holding. He stuck ‘Captain America’ to a wall.

“Alright guys, let’s wrap this up. It’s a school night.” ‘Thor’ went down in a heap when Spiderman slung him into the bank’s front window.

“How do jerks like you get tech like this?” Three down, Hulk to go.

“No. Wait! WAIT! **WAIT!** ” He barely pulled ‘Iron Man’ out of the way of ‘Hulk’s’ laser beam. It went straight through the front, across the street and hit–”

“– _Mr. Delmar_!”

Peter was across the street and into the flames in a heartbeat, calling out.

“Hey! Mr. Delmar, you in here? Is anybody in here? Hello?” Peter turned towards the sound of coughing and was relieved to see a dirty, but seemingly unharmed Mr. Delmar, reaching for his cat. 

“Oh thank God!” Peter grabbed Murph and helped Mr. Delmar walk out.

Now, back to the–

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

The bank was empty. 

He handed Murph over and headed up to the nearest rooftop. Maybe his Parker luck would take a night off and he would see them somewhere. _Not likely_. 

He had made it about three blocks when it occurred to him that this was _definitely_ the type of situation that merited a call to Happy. As he prepared to leave his voicemail, he was surprised to hear Happy actually pick up.

“Happy, the _craziest_ thing just happened to me! These guys were robbing an ATM with these high tech weapons–”

“Hey, take a breath, okay? I don’t have time for ATM robberies…”

“Yeah, but–” 

“Or the thoughtful notes you leave behind. I have moving day to worry about. Everything has to be out of here by next week.” Why wouldn’t Happy _listen_? Wait...

“You’re moving? Who’s moving?” He stopped running.

“Yeah, don’t you watch the news? Tony sold Avengers Tower. We’re relocating to a new facility upstate where, hopefully, the cell service is much worse.” Peter was more than a little hurt. His head was spinning from stress. 

“But what about me?”

“What _about_ you?”

“Well, what if Mr. Stark needs me or something, I don’t know, something big goes down? Can I please just talk to Mr. Stark?” Surely Mr. Stark would listen to him. This felt big!

Happy sighed. “Look, just stay away from anything too dangerous. I’m responsible for making sure you’re responsible, okay?”

“I am responsible! I– _Oof_.” he missed a building with his webs and hit a wall. Maybe it wasn’t just stress making his head spin… He really should eat.

“That doesn’t sound responsible.” 

“I’ll, ugh. I’ll call you back.”

“Feel free not to.” Happy said as he hung up. 

Peter slumped on the ground behind a random dumpster, giving himself the briefest moment to wallow in this feeling of rejection: that he was a freak, even among freaks, before he picked himself up and headed home to find food.

The trip home was more difficult than Peter would like to admit. May had been having trouble getting the hours that she used to, so Peter had been skipping breakfast. She would never let him if she knew, but she wasn’t around, and besides, he got lunch at school. Clearly, with his ever increasing patrol load, two meals a day weren’t enough. By the time he reached the apartment, Peter was ready to collapse onto his bed. Dinner be damned, right now all he could think about was sleep.

He crawled inside, tore off his mask, and dropped into his bed with his eyes already closed.

_**CRASH** _

Peter shot to his feet.

The last thing he heard was: “You’re the Spiderman! From YouTube!” And the ground rose up to meet him.


	11. Can You Spit Venom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author, once again, returns within a reasonable amount of time! Don't get used to it haha.
> 
> Seriously, if anyone has ideas/ wants to help me organize some of mine, HMU in the comments. I'm looking to include a little more spidery side-effects, so if you know any cool spider facts that you want to see included, let me know.

“Freak!” 

Peter started to cry. As much as that word usually hurt, coming from Ned it was too much.

“– _eter_. Pe–” 

The air felt like a weighted blanket, locking him in place. Everything hurt.

“One step closer to getting all the mutant freaks locked up.” 

When had these strangers gotten into his room?

“Good riddance.” Ned nodded.

“ **PETER!** ”

His eyes peeled open to find Ned leaning over him, shouting his name.

“Oh my God, you’re awake!” He leaned back, resting his head on the bedroom wall. “Dude, I was so worried! I thought I broke Spiderman!”

“I’m not Spiderman!” His default response was abject denial.

“You were on the ceiling.” He hadn't really expected that to work.

Peter sat up slowly, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“What? About the Death Star? I had barely started. Besides, I am _so_ far past that right now. You’re Spiderman! How is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”

“It’s the first time anyone is hearing about this.” Peter admitted.

“What about May?”

Peter shook his head. “Nobody knows. I mean, Mr. Stark knows because he made my suit, but that’s it.”

Ned’s face broke out into a shocked grin as he reached out to touch Peter’s suit. “Tony Stark made you that? Are you an Avenger?”

Peter thought about it for a second before he went with, “yeah, basically…” He wanted to walk over to his desk, but as soon as he stood up he almost collapsed again.

“Woah, dude are you okay? Do I need to call someone? Iron Man?”

Peter tried to shake his head again, but it hurt. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just need a minute. Maybe something to eat.”

“I brought pizza!” Ned shot up and left the room.

Peter laid back down on the ground and hit the suit’s release button. His mind was racing with a million thoughts all centered around the idea that Ned probably hated him now. If he didn’t hate Peter for being such a disappointing answer to ‘who’s behind the mask’ then he would at least hate him for lying for so long. Why shouldn’t he be mad at Peter? He couldn’t even remember plans they had literally made _yesterday_. He wouldn’t blame Ned if he just used pizza as an excuse to run. Happy was right. No one had time for–

“Can you spit venom?”

“What?” Ned was holding out a box of pizza and a Coke.

“Well, I was just thinking if you’ve got spider powers, right? Some spiders spit venom.”

“Oh.”

“So _do_ you?”

Peter grabbed the box as he sat up. “No, I, uh. I don’t think I can spit venom.”

“Damn. That’d be cool. Can I try on the suit?” He grabbed it, pulling it down Peter’s torso. “Dude! You have abs!”

Suddenly feeling very self conscious, he blushed and pulled on the tee shirt and jeans he abandoned to the floor after school. “Yeah, I noticed that… Look, I’m so sor–”

“How does the suit work? Is it magnets? How do you shoot the string? Oh God. Do you make the string?” The only thing stopping Ned from shooting off more questions was the pizza he was shoving in his mouth, but he stared at Peter, clearly waiting for an answer.

He swallowed. The least he could do was answer some questions. “The webs are synthetic. I usually make them during Chemistry. I’m not _that_ much of a freak, but the sticking to things. That’s all me. No magnets involved.” Once again, he was met with nothing but fascination and admiration from Ned.

“That’s awesome! So the walking on the ceiling? You don’t need a suit for that?”

Peter shook his head, set down what had quickly become his third slice, and walked up the wall to demonstrate.

“That’s insane!”

He walked back down and grabbed his drink.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ned’s tone was light but serious.

Peter was quick to parrot the lie he was always telling himself. “I just wanted to protect you. Keep you safe from all the chaos and danger. You’ve seen the news. The accords.”

“That’s literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that being a superhero has been my life dream since second grade, and this,” He gestured to Peter. “Being superhero adjacent, is closer than I ever actually thought I’d come.” He paused for a second, but pressed on. “Really man. Why?”

All Peter could do was stare at his hands for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Ned let him. Finally he started. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you found out it was just me.”

“And suddenly your previous comment finds itself in second place in the dumbest comment contest.” Ned sounded indignant. “How could I possibly be disappointed to learn that my _best friend_ is a superhero? Don’t get me wrong, I thought you were awesome before, but this? This is next level!” 

Peter wanted to feel relieved, here was Ned, openly saying that he didn’t hate him, but all he felt was incredibly exposed. Like a million eyes were on him, waiting to see the other shoe drop. Waiting for the ‘ _psych_!’

“Can you summon an army of spiders?” Ned finished his pizza and shifted to start putting the remnants of Death Star still scattered across the floor into a pile. Something about that familiar action relaxed him. This wasn't the first time the two of them sat on his floor cleaning up Legos, and in spite of it all, Ned wasn't really acting like anything had changed. Peter decided that he trusted Ned enough to take him at his word. Maybe he wasn't a disappointment. 

"Army of spiders?" Ned prompted again.

“God no! That sounds horrifying! You know I don’t like spiders.”

Ned nodded sagely. “So then why pick Spiderman?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed fitting seeing how I got my powers and all. Plus, the people were calling me _Sticky Man_ , Ned.” He faux shuddered.

“Anything’s better than that.” He agreed. “How did you get all super? Cause I know the abs are new.” Peter actually laughed at that. 

“Remember the Oscorp field trip for Bodanski’s class last year?”

“No way!” 

Peter nodded, a smile slowly forming.

“I _tried_ to tell coach Wilson that something bit me, but you know how he is.” He glanced over at Ned, and began to help with gathering Legos. “So I woke up the next morning and…” He gestured vaguely to himself.

“I snuck back in a week later and found out that one of the spiders they had been messing with was missing, and it all made sense… sort of.”

Ned had stopped working, completely absorbed in Peter’s story. 

“You got bit by a spider? Can it bite me? Well, it probably would’ve hurt, right? You know what? Whatever. Even if it did hurt, I’d let it bite me. Maybe. How much did it hurt?”

“The spider’s dead, Ned.” Peter said, feeling a little bad for bursting his bubble.

“It’s cool. Probably for the best. The guy in the chair doesn’t usually have powers anyways.”

“The what?”

“You know how there’s a guy with a headset telling the other guy where to go?” Peter just stared at him. “Like, like if you’re stuck in a burning building, I could tell you where to go. Because there’d be screens around me, and I could, you know, swivel around, and... ‘Cause I could be your guy in the chair.”

“You want to be my guy in the chair?” Peter asked. Somewhere between confused and touched.

“Of course! I already told you. Whether it’s killer robots or killer governmental policy, I’m by your side for any danger!”

The sheer level of enthusiasm in his face at the concept of facing mortal peril was enough to tell Peter that he absolutely was not thinking this through. 

“I don’t need a guy in a chair, Ned.” 

“I disagree. Just think about it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yes!” Ned pumped his fist in the air.

“But no promises.”

Evidently satisfied with this compromise, Ned pulled the instruction book out from its box. 

“Let’s get started!” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the evening was full of Legos and banter and increasingly erratic questions from Ned.

“But have you tried to use echolocation?”

“Ned, I’m telling you, that’s _bats_. I don’t even think spiders have ears.”

“But have you _tried_ – Hold on. It’s my mom.” He pulled out his phone. “Hey. Yeah. Yeah mom. Okay. Okay I–. Yeah. I’ll be right out.” Peter started to pack up the Legos. They had made impressive progress, especially considering how the evening started. 

Ned’s eagerness hadn’t faded at all. He practically bounced to the front door. “Look, I have to go, but I still have like a million more questions for you, so I’m totally walking to school with you tomorrow. Can you imagine Flash’s face when he finds out?” 

Peter stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “Ned, you know you can’t tell anyone about this right? You gotta keep it a secret.” 

He looked confused. “A secret? Why?”

“Flash would probably have me arrested! Plus, you know what May’s like. If she finds out people try and kill me every single night, she’s not going to let me do this anymore. Come on, Ned, please.”

He started pacing around the room and muttering “Okay” under his breath. He looked up very seriously.

“I’ll level with you. I don’t think I can keep this a secret. This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Peter!”

He was trying his hardest to stay calm. “Ned, May cannot know. I cannot do that to her right now, you know? I mean, everything that’s happened with her, I... Please.” Something about the desperation on his face seemed to click with Ned because he gave in.

“Okay.”

“Just swear it okay?

“I swear!”

“Thank you.” He stepped out of the way to let Ned pass. 

He stepped out, but turned back over his shoulder. “You’re awesome Peter!” And he was gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, for the first time in a week, ‘freak’ wasn’t what was ringing in his ears as he drifted off. No. This time it was ‘you’re awesome’. It was the infallible support of his best friend.


	12. A Series of Unfortunate Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, based on all the feedback i received, I'm going to basically keep this story going as is, and maybe some day it will actually get where it was supposed to go. Also, I've realized that I use that crying-laughing emoji as a conversational crutch, because not being able to use it at the end of literally every sentence in these authors notes is legitimately hard for me ngl.
> 
> As promised, this one is a little bit longer (not much). IDK when the next chapter will be out, so no promises there.
> 
> Love you guys <3

True to his word, Ned was ready and waiting outside of Peter’s apartment early the next morning. Peter, on the other hand, was scrambling to get his things together. He had stopped setting his alarm, having all but up on the idea of actually sleeping through the night. It was only Ned’s text that had finally woken him.

“I’m here! I’m ready!” He half fell out the door, backpack slung over one shoulder.

They took off down the street together: Ned picking right up where he had left off last night, and Peter constantly on guard for anyone who might be listening in. He had just finished explaining that, “No. I definitely do _not_ eat flies. That’s gross.” when they hit 101st.

Ned stopped in his tracks. 

“Woah.”

Peter thought that summed it up nicely. Somehow the destruction looked even worse in the light, with all the police tape and cops everywhere.

“You were here?” 

Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Yeah.” This was all his fault.

“You could have died.” Ned reminded him.

He didn’t like to think about his own mortality. Especially not when he was patrolling. He pretended he was invincible, but Peter knew better than anyone, that he wasn’t. Super or not, people just died sometimes. The gravity of the situation was rolling in like harsh thundering clouds.

“Do you lay eggs?” And just like that, the crossing light turned green. Life moved on. And Ned was asking him if he laid eggs. The absurdity of it all made him chuckle.

“What? No.” 

Ned shrugged and started across the street.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Once Peter got to school he was relieved to see how much things remained the same. Ned finding out his secret was life-changing, so it was nice to be reminded that everyone else was still oblivious. He was still safe.

Sure, class was full of Ned whispering weird questions, but honestly, he was kind of always like that. He was starting to believe that nothing would change at all until they sat down for lunch. They took their usual seats, at a table alone (unless you count Michelle, who always sat at least five seats down), when Ned pushed his tray across the table towards Peter.

“What are you doing?”

“I looked it up. The average spider eats like, ten percent of their body weight _every day_. You’re not eating enough.”

“Ned, I’m fine.” He tried to push the tray back, but Ned kept his hand on it.

“My mom’s diabetic, Peter. I know what hypoglycemia looks like. Besides,” He reached into his backpack, “I brought lunch today.”

In his haste, Peter had once again left without breakfast, so he didn’t need much convincing. He dug in. It still wasn’t _good_ food, but hey, now he had twice as much of it. He was halfway through the first burger when Flash walked over.

“Now how is it,” He stopped and looked at both of them, “That Penis is the one eating like a pig, but Ned’s still the fat one?”

Peter told him to shut up, but he was too busy laughing at his own joke to notice.

“I’m just sayin’.”

Content with his jackassery for the day, Flash started back to his table when he absolutely ate it. The whole lunchroom got quiet except for a quiet hiss of “Oooooh”. Peter was the only one who seemed to notice Michelle pulling her foot back under her seat. She shrugged and went back to picking at her fries. 

As quickly as it had fallen, the noise and movement of the room rose back. Flash dusted himself off and ran out, and Peter and Ned started laughing.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time they reached gym, Ned was finally running out of questions… Until Coach Wilson rolled out a TV that honestly had to be as old as they were and told them it was time for ‘Captain America’s Fitness Challenge’. Suddenly, Ned had found his second wind.

“Do you know him too?” Ned pointed at the video.

“Yeah, we met.”

“You met Captain America?”

“I stole his shield.” Peter tried to sound casual. Ned looked like he might die. 

The video ended and Coach Wilson addressed the screen. “Thank you, Captain. I’m pretty sure this guy’s a war criminal now, but whatever. I have to show these videos. It’s required by the state. Let’s do it.”

With a blow of his whistle, all the students paired up and spread out across the gym. Peter was careful to pull Ned as far away from the rest of the students as he could. That didn’t stop him from worrying about all the other people in the room.

“Do the Avengers pay taxes?”

“Shhh!”

“Does the Hulk smell nice?”

“Shhhhhh!”

“I bet he smells nice.”

Peter paused his sit ups. “Ned, you have to shut up.”

The only people nearby were the group waiting to use the climbing rope: Liz, Betty, and Charles. Interestingly enough, they were also talking about superheroes.

“Now, see, for me, it would be F Thor, marry Iron Man, and kill The Hulk.” Betty giggled as she spoke.

“Well, what about The Spider Man?” Charles asked

“It’s just Spiderman.” As soon as Betty mentioned Spiderman, Ned looked over. Peter was willing him to be quiet with everything he had.

“It’s your turn for sit-ups.” Peter rolled off the mat, trying to distract him. Ned waved him off, clearly much more interested in what was happening on the bleachers.

“Did you guys see the bank security cam on YouTube?” Liz asked. “He fought off four guys.”

“Oh my God, she’s crushing on Spiderman.” Peter’s eyes widened as Betty made the realization.

Charles scoffed. “No way.”

But Liz shrugged. “Kind of?”

Even Betty was shaking her head. Peter had given up on sit ups. All his focus was on them. “Ugh. Gross. He’s probably like thirty.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like. Like, what if he’s, like, seriously burned?” Charles added.

“I wouldn’t care. I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.” As soon as she said it, Ned started to move. 

“Peter knows Spiderman!” He cringed as Ned shouted. Everyone in the gym heard him. Peter hurried over to the bleachers, wanting to quiet things down, but Flash was already on his way over.

Peter stumbled through some half denials, but Ned doubled down. “They’re friends.” He shot Ned another _shut up_ look. Then, the next thing Spiderman had been roped into attending a house party that night. It all happened so fast. Peter had worked very hard to distance his civilian life from his powered one, but _Liz_ thought Spiderman was hot, and Flash was making fun of him again, and suddenly the bell was ringing.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Peter was the first one out of the locker room, eager to avoid whatever Flash had to say.

“I’m not going.” He didn’t even look back, he knew Ned would be following.

“What are you doing dude? I’m helping you out. Did you not hear her? Liz has a crush on you.”

“She has a crush on _Spiderman_ ,” he corrected.

“Dude, you’re an Avenger. If any one of us has a chance with a senior girl, it’s you.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Peter tried to bail on the party three more times, only to be roped back in by Ned every time.

“Ned why aren’t you getting dressed at your own house?”

“Because I know that if I’m not here, you’ll bail. Besides, May is driving us.” Ned started digging through Peter’s closet.

“May’s not even home from work yet.” Peter rolled his eyes, but took the shirt Ned held out.

“I know, but she’ll be home before six.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I texted her.” He said as if it should be obvious.

“You– what?”

“Oh come one man, don’t make that face. She actually agrees with me. You’re too stressed out lately. A party will be good for you!” He said, sounding unreasonably peppy.

“You’re unbelievable!” Peter’s voice was completely deadpan.

“An unbelievably good friend, maybe. Now let’s talk plan. You should wait until the party really gets going before you swing in and says you guys are tight. Oh! And I should get a fist bump or one of those half bro-hugs.”

“I think Spiderman’s more of a fist bump kind of guy.” Peter mused, leaning past Ned to grab his converse.

“What does that mean? _You’re_ Spiderman, so he does whatever you do. Right?”

Peter shrugged. “Eh. Kind of. It’s weird man. I don’t know.” 

Ned laughed.

They finished getting ready before May got home, so they pulled the Death Star out of the corner and kept working on it. 

They were just about to open the next set of bags when Peter heard the front door lock turning.

"May's home."

"How do you–" He gasped. "Super hearing!"

"Peter?" She came back to his room. "Are you boys ready to go?"

He figured now was his last chance to try and get out of going. "You don't have to drive us May. You've been at work all day. You're probably tired. We can just stay here and build the Death Star." 

She shook her head and looked at him seriously. "Oh, Peter. I know. I know it’s really hard trying to fit in with all the changes your body’s going through. It’s flowering now." 

He turned red and cut her off with a laugh. "Okay, okay. I'm going to go to the car now. Anything to stop this conversation."

"He forgets sometimes that I was his age too once.” She said, turning to Ned. “You know, some hats wear men, Ned. You wear that hat."

"Thanks! It gives me confidence." They headed towards the stairs.

\------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as they walked in Peter regretted it. With his enhanced abilities, all the lights and noise made it a sensory hell. _I'm here for Ned. I'm here for Ned._ He kept silently repeating.

"I can't believe you guys are at this lame party." He looked over to see Michelle.

"But you're here too?" Ned looked confused.

"Am I?" She walked away.

Peter decided to head into the living room instead of questioning it. That was where they ran into Liz.

"I'm so happy you guys came! There's pizza and drinks, help yourself."

"It's a great party." 

Something crashed in the kitchen.

"Oh I... My parents will kill me if anything's broken. I gotta go."

Ned turned to him. "Okay dude, now's the time. Spider it up!"

"No, no, no. I can’t... I cannot do this. Spiderman is not a party trick, okay? Look, I’m just gonna... be myself." He could have fun at this party, and maybe Liz would start to like Peter too, not just his alter-ego. 

Ned seemed like he was going to protest when a voice came over the speakers.

"Penis Parker, what’s up?" He groaned. "So, where’s your pal Spiderman? Let me guess. In Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?" Flash grinned as the crowd laughed. "That's not Spiderman! That's just Ned in a red shirt!" Peter pursed his lip. He had had enough of Flash’s shit.

He was looking for a secluded area to get his mask on and his clothes off, but every room in the house seemed to have a pair of teenagers making out. Finally, he gave up and climbed onto the roof. No horny classmates up here. He was stuttering his way through what he wanted to say when he saw a huge flash of blue light coming from the city. 

"What the hell?" 

Suddenly all his nerves about entering the party were gone. He needed to find Ned. He swung in through the back door, right behind the DJ booth. He was making a beeline towards where he left Ned when someone stopped him.

"Mr. Spiderman! Sir! My name is Flash Thompson! I'm a huge fan of your work." Peter had no time to laugh at the irony of that. He needed to find his friend.

“That’s cool, Trash. Where’s Ned?” Flash pointed towards the bathroom. Peter rushed off.

“He knows my name!” Flash practically squealed.

“He called you Trash.” Michelle pointed out. 

“He _almost_ knows my name!” Flash smiled, his mood unchanged.

Peter started banging on the door. Ned opened it. 

“Spiderman! You’re he-”

“Yeah, yeah great to see you again Ned!” He raised his voice for the benefit of the crowd that was forming around them. “Look, something’s up. I gotta go.”

“What is it?” Ned’s mood quickly shifted to match Peter’s tone.

“I’m not entirely sure. There was an explosion–”

“Go. Go!” Ned nodded him off.

“I’ll call you!” Peter promised, as he swung out the window and away from the speechless crowd.


	13. You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't completely sure what to title this one. I hope you like it! I also hope you're ready for more Delamar in the next one, bc that's the plan <3

Peter had barely made it off Liz’s property when he realized the flaw in his plan. Suburbs.

“This sucks!” Peter shouted as he took off running. He made a silent vow to never move out of the city. He was grateful, at the very least, that he didn’t have to worry about asthma anymore. Ever since the spider bite, he rarely found himself out of breath. There were two more huge bursts of light before Spiderman successfully closed in on their location. He was a little surprised to find the area was still void of police.

He crawled underneath the defunct overpass and watched the transaction unfold.

“Okay, I got, uh, black hole grenades, Chitauri railguns…”

“This must be where the ATM robbers got their stuff.” Peter hissed.

“I need something to stick up somebody. I’m not trying to shoot them back in time.” 

“I got anti-grav climbers.”

Peter had heard enough. There were only three guys here, and he wasn’t going to sit around listening to them talk shop when he could be taking them down. He dropped to the ground and stepped into the light.

“Don’t you need some kind of license to be selling weapons like that?”

“What the hell?” The guy in charge yelled. “You set us up!” He pointed his gun at the buyer.

Peter jumped forward. He was trying to _keep_ more people from getting shot. “Hey! Hey, come on. You gonna shoot at somebody, shoot at me.”

The man shrugged. “All right.”

He tried to shoot, but Spiderman was faster. He and his accomplice were webbed to the ground. Now all that was left was to web up the buyer, call Mr. Stark, and clean up whatever was in the van. _THE VAN_. 

The van peeled off down the road, and Peter took off after it.

“There was a driver!” Peter cursed into the wind.

In a last ditch effort to catch up, he shot his webs towards the van. He caught the side door as it turned.

It was a stupid idea. Peter knew it was a stupid idea. He knew it before he even made the move. But god damn it, the last time he didn’t take these weapons seriously, Mr. Delmar could have _died_ , and it was going to take a little more than some road rash to the face for them to get away from him again.

Peter held on for dear life as the van whipped and winded its way through back alleys. He narrowly avoided a face first collision with a brick mailbox, only to slam straight through a line of garbage cans, trying to dodge whatever was falling out of the, now open, van door. Slowly, he pulled himself up the web until he was able to grab onto the bumper. He had made his way onto the roof, trying desperately to figure out what to do next when–

“Surprise!”

“What the hell?” Peter looked up to see a man in a metal bird suit dragging him into the sky. Peter looked down to see the rapidly shrinking van, disappearing. Before he had a chance to organize his thoughts, the man released him, and every single one of them was replaced with “ **AAAAAAAHHHHHH**.”

At some point during his descent, a parachute was released, which should have improved the situation, but somehow only made it worse. Peter got so tangled up that he didn’t see the water rapidly approaching. Only felt a biting sting as all of the air was sucked out of his lungs with a single _womph_. He gasped for breath, but only got water. The more he fought, the more tired he felt. 

His only thought as his vision faded to black was: _May will never know what happened_. 

He woke up in the air. Again. This time, coughing up a lung in the arms of his hero. They raced towards land, and he set Peter down.

“What the hell kid?” 

Peter sucked in another breath before he tried to speak.

“Mr. Stark. Oh my God. That was crazy! These guys were selling weapons. I was trying to tell Happy about it the other day but–”

“I got that. But why were you plummeting through the air?”

“Right, well it was like I was trying to tell you. I got two of them, and I was chasing the last on when this bird guy showed up. And then he just, he just, like, swooped down like a monster and he picked me up and, uh, he took me up, like, a thousand feet and just dropped me. How’d you find me? Did you put a tracker in my suit or something?”

“I put everything in your suit. Including this heater.” 

With a push of a button, Peter’s suit was dry. “Oh that’s better. Thank you so much.”

“What were you thinking?”

Peter was excited to have someone to compare plans with. “The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons. I gotta take him down.”

“Take him down now, huh? Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing.”

He was confused. “The Avengers?”

“No, no, no. This is a little below their pay grade.” 

“Oh.” Peter was starting to wish Mr. Stark wasn’t here. He was supposed to be proving that he was a real hero, and needing a rescue didn’t feel very heroic. “Anyway, Mr. Stark, you didn’t have to come all the way out here. I had that. I was fine.”

“Oh, I’m not here.” His faceplate opened up to reveal an empty suit. He knew he had just been wishing for it, but somehow this was worse.

“Thank God this place has Wi-Fi or you would be toast right now. Thank Ganesh while you’re at it.” Peter stared at his feet, feeling stupid. “Look, I’ll clean up those guys you found tonight. Just forget the flying vulture guy, please.”

“Why?” He felt defensive. This was personal to him.

“Because I said so.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. He might be a billionaire, superhero, genius, but right now Tony Stark sounded like every stupid adult Peter had ever met, and he wasn’t happy about it.

“Look,” he continued. “Stay close to the ground. Build up your game helping little people, like that lady that bought you the churro. Can’t you just be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman?”

“But I’m ready for more than that now!” Peter protested.

“No you are not.” 

Peter was about to remind him that he was apparently ready enough to fight Captain America when a female, robotic voice called out “Mr. Stark is no longer connected,” and the suit flew away, leaving Peter to sulk.

“Stay close to the ground.” He jumped down and started kicking at the pinecones on the ground. “What is he talking about?”

He started walking back towards the party. When he stopped to flip back over all the trash cans he knocked over, he saw something under one of them.

“Woah.” He bent to pick it up when his phone buzzed.

 **May** 10:49 PM  
I’ll be there in 20. Hope you had fun! 

“Shit.” He shoved the rock in his pocket and took off, calling Ned while he ran.

“Ned! Hey. Look I’m on my way back now.”

“Peter! This party is amazing! _Betty_ just gave me her phone number! I mean, technically I already had it ‘cause of when we did that project last year for English, but now she actually _wants_ me to have it.” Peter smiled at the pride in Ned’s voice.

“Yeah, that’s great man. May’s almost there.” That killed the buzz.

“Shit.”

“I should beat her back, but if I don’t you gotta stall her until I get there.”

“Ah man,” he groaned. “You know what a bad liar I am.”

“Ned! Come on. I need you to do this for me.” He paused for a second. “You’re my guy in the chair.”

The noise that Ned let out was somewhere between a squeal and yelp, but he responded enthusiastically. “I’ve got this!” 

Peter ran faster.

He was on the roof changing back when he heard May’s car pull up. Now all he had to do was sneak in the back, say his goodbyes, and no one would be the wiser.

He was about to give up on looking for Liz when someone shoved him from behind.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“What?” Peter sighed. He was too tired to deal with Flash’s bullshit right now.

“How much did it cost to get some Spiderman impersonator to run in here?” He sneered.

Peter rolled his eyes and walked away. “My ride’s here.”

“That beat-up hunk of junk out front is with you? I should have guessed. It’s trash.” He stepped forward, getting in Peter’s face. “Just. Like. You.” 

Ned walked in before Peter could respond. “There you are! May just sent me to get you.” He looked between the two of them for a second. Peter took another step back.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“He’s just jealous.” Ned said when they stepped outside. “Everyone forgot about him tonight. They were more interested in Spiderman.”

Peter couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. He didn’t dwell on it long, because then they were back in the car, and it was twenty questions with May. He let Ned answer most of them, and found creative answers when he couldn’t.

\---------------------------------------------------

“Ned’s night sounds like a blast! Did _you_ have fun Peter?”

“I certainly met some new people tonight.” 

“Good for you! Are you going to see them again?”

He shook his head with a grimace she couldn’t see from the front. “I sure hope so.”

\--------------------------------------------------

They pulled up to Ned’s house at 11:03, greeted at the mailbox by a very anxious looking Mrs. Leeds. 

“Eleven o’clock!” Was the first thing she said when Ned opened the door. “Your curfew was eleven. Not a minute after! I was worried sick!”

May rolled down her window. “I’m sorry, that one’s on me. Looks like I drove a little too slow.” She offered a sheepish smile.

Mrs. Leeds regarded her warily, but decided to abandon her anger in favor of hugging her son.

“I’ll see you Monday!” Ned called out.

“See you then.” He waved.

Once they safely pulled away, they broke out into laughter. 

“Can you believe that? She was just standing there waiting for us.” 

“Yeah, she can be kind of intense.”

“Say what you want about me.” May shook her head. “At least I don’t do that.”

They rode for a while, Bon Jovi playing softly from the radio, until May spoke up.

“Maybe I should be more like that…”

“What?”

She looked over, “I know I’m not around enough. I’m always working. I hope you know how much I love you Peter.”

“I do.” His response was immediate.

“I’m really trying. I hope I’m doing it right.” She sounded so honest, so vulnerable.

“I think you are May.” He turned to stare at the road in front of them. “You are.”

The rest of the drive was 80s music and quiet contemplation.


	14. Next Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey... how yall doin? 
> 
> Don't get your hopes too high. I've been rewriting this chapter since literally the day I posted the last one cause I couldn't get it right, so I have literally no eta for the next one. Or any ideas for the next one. Should I be admitting that? Does that shatter some kind of illusion? I don't think any of you were under the impression that I was actually a competent writer to begin with so I think we're fine...

Saturday morning, Peter was up with the sun, and for the briefest of moments, he forgot that Delmar’s was still closed. Then his feet hit the floor and the spell was broken. He didn’t even try to suppress his guilt as he pulled on his suit and jumped out the window. Not only had he let the bad guys get away, but he had almost gotten someone he loved killed, and to make matters worse, now he was out of a job too. Mr. Stark was crazy if he really believed Peter could just drop this. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

He had been out for an hour making circles without passing the bodega once. Peter knew he was avoiding it, but he couldn’t help himself. But when a purse snatcher ran that way, Spiderman had to pursue. He webbed the man to a crossing sign and gave the woman back her purse, much to her appreciation. Before he could swing away from Delmar’s rubble– _The rubble you caused_ – he noticed someone inside. His curiosity outweighed his guilt, so he ran over.

Inside he saw Mr. Delmar, whistling while he swept up the glass that used to be the deli display case. He felt like an intruder in some private moment. Still, he stayed.

“Can I uh– do you need any help?”

“Spiderman!” He sounded pleased, but oddly not surprised. “You think you can help me get this shelf out? The other ones will clean, but this one… it’s shot.”

“I– sure!” He jogged over and picked it up so quickly he almost hit the ceiling.

“Slow down kid! It’s not a race.”

“Where do you–?”

“Just take it around back.” 

He carried it awkwardly through the storefront hole. On his way back in, he took a moment to survey the path of destruction where the laser had cut through. It went right through Peter’s camera. The one that started Peter’s Bootleg Repair Shop

“Oh man. That looks bad.” He said, sadly to himself.

Mr. Delmar walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah. That thing was junk for years until my kid came in and fixed it this summer. He’s probably heartbroken.”

Peter was so focused on the camera that he almost didn’t notice– “your kid?”

“Well, he’s not blood,” Mr. Delmar shrugged, “but he’s family. Can you grab a rag from the back? I think if we clean that counter off, it can stay.”

He turned without a word, not trusting his voice.

He wondered how disappointed Mr. Delmar would be if he knew _Peter_ was the one who ruined his store.

The two of them worked in tandem for so long that Peter’s stomach started to rumble. More so than it usually did.

“I’m breaking for lunch. Are you staying to eat?” 

“Oh, I really shouldn’t I–” He caught the slightly singed bag of chips.

“Eat with me. I can’t sell this stuff, but it’s still good.” 

Peter paused for a second before he hopped up on the now clean counter and pulled open the bag.

“Thank you.”

\--------------------------------------------

Mr. Delmar had finished eating, and made a move to stand when Peter finally found the courage to say what had been on his mind all week.

“I’m sorry.” Once he started, the words just tumbled out. “About all of this, I mean. It was all my fault. I’m supposed to be some hero, but I couldn’t even stop those bank robbers, and I– I’m so sorry.” He hung his head. There was a long silence.

“Kid? Kid, look at me. _This_ ” he looked around. “This is not your fault. Anyone who expects you to be perfect is crazy. Were you trying your best?”

“Yes, but–”

“You were trying your best.” He cut Peter off. “And look, this may seem like a big mess, but insurance will cover most of it, and if it doesn’t… I’ve got savings. It’ll _be_ okay.”

Peter just shook his head, trying his hardest not to cry. He hated crying in the mask. “I just.” He took a heaving breath. “I can’t believe I failed you.” 

_You shouldn’t be surprised_. Some deep dark part of Peter said. _You always fail the people you care about_.

He shook the thought away and turned to leave, unable to stand it anymore. He offered one last “I’m so sorry,” as he walked out.

“You didn’t fail me.” Mr. Delmar called after him, his voice emphatic, but Peter kept walking. Tears falling in earnest now. “Peter!”

That stopped him cold. “I–” This had to stop happening. “Who’s Peter?” He tried half-heartedly.

Mr. Delmar raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Peter sighed and stepped back in the shop.

“How did you figure it out?”

“Word of advice?” Peter nodded. “Don’t change in the alley where people take their smoke breaks.” 

“Ah.” Peter was feeling a hundred emotions and he couldn’t name one of them. “Those things will kill you ya know.”

He cracked a smile. “You chase criminals in spandex, niño. You’ve lost the right to criticize _my_ habits.” 

There was a beat of silence, and Peter looked down at his feet. “Did you– I mean, have you– Does anyone else know?”

“No. Kid I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t even going to tell you, but I couldn’t let you walk out of here feeling guilty over something that wasn’t your fault.” He continued, “Listen to me. I meant what I said earlier. You’re a good kid, but you put too much pressure on yourself. I see you swinging past here at all hours. In the morning, late at night. It’s not normal.”

“You should be mad at me.” Peter said, like he was afraid he was pointing out something the man had failed to consider.

“No I shouldn’t. Peter, it was just a mistake, made with the best of intentions. And look, you even came back to clean up after yourself. Who can ask for more than that?”

Peter looked up. The store did look markedly better than it had when he arrived.

“Now, I need to call someone about a new window, and _you_ need to go be a kid. So when I get back I expect you to be gone, and next Saturday, you’re going to tell me all about whatever teenage recklessness you and your friends got up to this weekend. Okay?”

“Next weekend?”

“Just because there’s a hole in the wall, doesn’t mean people have stopped bringing in junk for you to fix!” He said, as he walked towards the back.

“Next weekend.” Peter repeated, more to himself than anyone else.

He pulled on his mask and swung out the door, feeling a little lighter than he had all week.


	15. Peter's Finger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This one's a little longer, but I'm pretty pleased with the way this one turned out, so if you don't like it... keep it to yourself! (That's very much so a joke I will take literally any feedback or advice you want to give me, even if it's just 'this was boring and I hated it.') Someone asked me in comments if this was my first fic. I think I said it somewhere in notes already (but honestly I don't even read my own ANs so no shade), but this totally is. I've never tried any kind of creative writing before, and the longest thing I've ever written was like an 8 page history paper, so I'm super duper receptive to any kind of feedback, editing, pet-peeves, plot ideas you may have for me. This is really just a fun side hobby bc I'm stuck inside all day, but I'm trying my best!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who comments, and thank you to everyone who has read this. I know there are literally so many things you could be reading on this site, so it's super cool to me that you took a minute to read mine! <3

Ned wasn’t in Peter’s first or second period classes on Mondays. Their first class together was Shop, which was probably a good thing, because Mr. Hapgood never paid any attention to them, and Ned was definitely going to have questions about the weird glowing rock that Peter had wrapped in a sweatshirt in the bottom of his backpack. But that meant he had to make it through AP European History with Flash, by himself. He found his seat right as the bell rang, but of course Mrs. Peters was running late.

“Hey Penis.” He closed his eyes. _Maybe ignoring him would work. There’s a first time for everything. Right?_

“Penis!” Flash hit him across the back of the head. _Or maybe not_.

“What do you want?”

“Just wanted to remind you that Spiderman talked to _me_ at Liz’s party. He knows my name” The smug look on his face was infuriating.

“Really?” Peter turned around. “I thought he was just some impersonator I hired? So which is it, hmm? You can’t seem to keep your story straight.” 

Flash probably would have dropped it there, but the kid sitting next to him heard what Peter said and started getting people’s attention. With all the focus of a room-full of sophomores on him, Flash couldn’t back down. He had to look like the alpha. He pushed back his chair, textbook in hand.

“Shut up Penis! What do you know? You weren’t even there!” 

Peter turned towards the front, choosing not to engage, when his spider sense blared. He turned around just in time to stop Flash’s AP Euro textbook from hitting him in the back of the head. Unfortunately, he stopped it by punching it out of the air. His ring finger hit the spine with a sickening crunch. The pain made him want to puke.

“Woah man!” Charles stepped in front of Flash. “Not fucking cool. Chill out!”

That was when Betty came over. “Are you okay Peter? Should I call the nurse?”

Peter was quick to shake his head. With his healing factor, the nurse would raise more problems than solutions. “No, I’m fine. I just need the bathroom.” He stood up and hurried to the door, only to be stopped by Mrs. Peters walking in. _Great timing_. Peter thought, _isn’t that just typical Parker luck_.

“And where do you think you’re going Mr. Parker?”

“I just need to use the bathroom.” He tried to step past her, but she didn’t move.

“I don’t think so.” She strode over to her desk and set down her things. “You can do that on your own time. Right now it’s time to learn about the Enlightenment.”

“But–”

“Please take your seat.”

Peter grumbled, but he did it anyway. 

While Mrs. Peters started to expound on the theories of John Locke, Peter poked at his finger from behind his textbook. It didn’t take a doctor to see that it was broken. It was literally bent towards his pinky. He couldn’t exactly explain the injury to the nurse, and he knew his window of opportunity to fix it was shrinking– that’s the downside to a healing factor– so he put his pencil in his mouth, bit down hard, and pulled. 

The cracking sound made Betty turn around. “Are you okay?” She whispered back to him. He nodded.

He inspected his handiwork. He could tell that it wasn’t _quite_ right, but it was certainly straighter than it had been, and he didn’t think he had it in himself to try again, so instead he grabbed a pen, and tried to take notes left-handed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

It worked well enough in history, but was a little harder in English, where he was supposed to be typing out an in-class autobiographical essay.

“Alright class! You have five more minutes until the bell rings! Get your last revisions done and your papers submitted. The Google Classroom _will_ be closing with the bell.”

He gritted his teeth and kept typing, trying to use as many synonyms for words that didn’t contain the letter P as possible to give his finger a break. It didn’t help that his name was Peter Parker.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter only had one more class before lunch, and it was Shop, so he was in the home stretch. Soon, he would be able to eat, and the throbbing in his hand would subside. His healing factor had definitely seen all around improvement since Ned had started feeding him a second lunch every day, but there was no substitute for the few minutes right after he ate, when his stomach was actually full. He could almost watch the bruises fade away in real time. 

One more class. He could do this.

“Dude!” Ned ran over and dropped his backpack by the bench he and Peter always worked at. “Everyone in journalism was talking about how you and Flash got into it before Peters’ today. You good?”

“Everybody?” Peter groaned. He didn’t want the teachers hearing about it, or he would get detention for sure. The school’s zero tolerance policy for fighting wasn’t big on the idea of self defense.

“Well, Betty told Abe, and Abe told Liz, and then Michelle started ranting about injustice. So basically everybody.” He nodded. “But are you okay though? Betty said he beat you with his textbook!”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Peter tried to wave off Ned’s concern. “He hit my hand with it _once_. She’s just exaggerating so it’ll be a better story.”

Ned grabbed Peter’s wrist, flipping the hand over and gawking. “Peter, that looks awful. You have to tell someone!”

“I can’t.” Peter reminded him. “You know they’d just give me detention for fighting too. It’s not worth it.” 

Ned made a displeased face, so Peter continued, “Besides, I have Super Healing, so it barely even hurts.” That last part was a lie. If anything, the injuries hurt worse, like his body was trying to cram all the pain into the shortened window, but it made Ned feel better, so Peter said it anyway.

“Plus, you should be way more interested in what I found on Friday.” He pulled the glowing core out of his backpack.

Ned’s face lit up. “What is that?”

“I don’t know. Some guy tried to vaporize me with it.” He reached for a screwdriver and started trying to pry the casing off.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome!” Peter gave Ned an incredulous look.

“I mean, not awesome. Totally uncool of that guy. So scary.” Ned nodded solemnly.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Well, look, I think it’s a power source.”

“Yeah, but it’s connected to all these microprocessors. That’s an inductive charging plate. That’s what I use to charge my toothbrush.” 

Peter grabbed the pliers and started pulling harder, but it wasn’t working left-handed.

“Whoever’s making these weapons is obviously combining alien tech with ours.” 

He dropped the pliers and started digging through his tool box. 

“That is literally the coolest sentence anyone has ever said.” Peter pulled out a hammer with flourish, paying no attention to Ned’s rambling. “I just want to thank you for letting me be part of your journey into this amazing–”

 **SMASH**. 

They both shot a look up to Mr. Hapgood, who was entirely focused on whatever mystery novel he was reading this week. “Keep your fingers clear of the blades.” He called out noncommittally.

“I gotta figure out what this thing is, and who makes it.” Peter turned the now free stone over in his hand.

“Let’s go to the lab during lunch to run some tests.” 

Peter grinned.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the shop class passed agonizingly slowly. They were building musical instruments this week. Peter let Ned take the lead on everything, trying to act like it wasn’t because his finger was messed up. Eventually, the bell rang and the pair were hurrying down to the cafeteria.

Ned finished his lunch in five minutes, and Peter wasn’t far behind. 

“Hurry up! I wanna try the electrometer and the mass spectrometer on it. Oh and the magnetometer. Oh and–”

“I get it Ned. Eating as fast as I can.” 

Peter stood up to throw his tray away when Michelle stopped him. “Where are you nerds going?”

They both froze. She gave them a stare like she could see deep into their souls, like all their secrets were laid bare. Time stood still and no one spoke until– 

“I’m just kidding. I don’t care.”

The boys let out a sigh and ran off.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“First, I say we put the glowy thingy in the mass spectrometer.”

“ _First_ , we gotta come up with a better name than 'glowy thingy'.”

“You’re right.”

They turned the corner, and Peter immediately sensed danger. At the end of the hallway stood the getaway driver from the other night, and he had a friend. 

“Shit.” Peter hissed pulling Ned back with him so they were out of sight.

“That’s one of the guys who tried to kill me.”

Ned peered around the corner. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“We gotta get out of here.” Ned turned to go back to the cafeteria.

“No, no, no, no, no. I gotta follow them. Maybe they can lead me to the guy that dropped me in the lake.” 

“Hold on. Someone dropped you in a lake?”

Peter winced. “Yeah. It was not good.”

He watched the two of them slip into a classroom. “Stay here Ned.”

Ned called after him, but Peter was already gone.

From right outside the door, Peter could hear the two men talking inside.

“Can you imagine what the boss would say if he knew where we were?”

“It’s saying there was an energy pulse right here.”

Peter crept into the room behind them, hoping to get some more information. “There’s no sign of the weapon. And even if it was here, now it’s gone.”

“And so are we.” The two men turned to leave. Peter ducked under the nearest table, praying to everything he could think of that his Parker luck wouldn’t betray him now. 

Remarkably, he seemed to go unnoticed. The two were almost gone when Peter had an idea. After the incident in the lake, Peter had become a bit more familiar with his suit. He even found a set of mini-trackers. He shot one towards the shorter man, and watched it crawl up his leg.

Once he was satisfied the two were gone, he went back out to meet Ned.

“What just happened? Are there actual Super Villains after you?”

“Technically I think those guys are more of henchmen.”

Ned’s eyes widened. Peter gestured towards an empty classroom. They went inside.

“Are there Super Villains after you?” Ned repeated.

“Yes and no,” Peter shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’re not after me, they’re after the glowy thingy.”

“So they _don’t_ know who you are?” 

Peter shook his head.

“Then why were we hiding from them? If anything that makes us look more suspicious.”

“I–” Peter blinked. “Fair enough. But the point is, they’re tracking the glowy thingy. That means no testing on it. We can’t risk it.”

“Fine.” Ned looked upset.

Right then, the bell rang, so they started towards class.

“Is it weird that we just saw literal Super Villain Henchmen, and I’m more upset that we won’t get to do cool science on the glowy thingy?”

“Yes.” Peter answered without hesitation.

Ned shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day passed easily. One pop quiz (he aced it), and two very boring lectures later, and Peter was out the door. He texted Ned to meet at his place after school, but that still gave him at least two hours. The big Academic Decathlon trip left on Wednesday, so there was no way Liz would let them out of practice before dinner.

Peter suited up and headed out. The first thing he did was swing by Delmar's, where he was pleasantly surprised to see a new storefront window, but no one was there, so he moved on. He made his way towards Forest Park, stopping to do tricks for all the school kids he passed on the way. 

He was about to turn back around and head the other direction when he noticed a car speeding out of control towards a cab stopped at a traffic light. Spiderman jumped to the pavement in front of the careening car, hands out, back leg braced to catch it. He’d done this before. But at the moment of impact, he was hit with an incredible pain. He pulled his right hand into his chest and let out a yell. 

Luckily, his left arm was strong enough to soften the collision enough that the air bags weren’t set off in either car. Unlucky, he was still in between them.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” The driver yelled out of his car window.

Peter nodded. “I would like to formally apologize to every spider I ever squished. This is terrible.”

The cab’s passenger had gotten out, and was now standing beside him, freaking out. “Are you hurt? What should I do?”

“Well.” He grimaced. “I hate to be a complainer, but do you think the cab could maybe pull up a little? You know, let me out?”

“Yeah. Of course!” She jumped, and hurried to convey his message. A second later, the cab lurched forward, and Peter dropped to the ground. He hopped up and thanked the woman.

“Is everyone okay here?” He watched them all nod. “Then you better get going. You’re holding up traffic.” 

As if on cue, someone behind them honked impatiently. The streets of New York had no time for your near-death experiences.

“And you.” Spiderman pointed at the driver. “No texting while driving! Come on, man!”

The trio let out a series of thanks and apologies, while Peter jogged into the nearest alley.

He was about to pull off his glove to look at his hand, when he realized what had happened. His ring finger was once again bent the wrong direction. Somehow it looked worse this time.

“Note to self:” He muttered. “Broken fingers do _not_ heal in an afternoon.” 

He painfully set his finger a second time and started walking towards his home. He thought about swinging back, but he quickly thought better of it.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter crawled through his window and picked up his phone. It was 5:27. Ned would be here soon. In fact, he had already texted Peter that he was on his way. Peter shot off a quick 'see you soon,' and changed back into his school clothes, choosing to ignore the sickening shade of purple his finger had started to turn.


	16. I'm Spending the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely told someone the new chapter would be up soon and then spent the rest of the day editing the chapters I've already posted instead of posting the (already written) next one because I am a nightmare. So sorry to that person, but at least the chapter's up now???

Peter was in the bathroom when he heard a noise in the other room. He knew he had locked the door, and May was working a double so it couldn’t be her. He snuck back into his room and pulled on his mask, preparing himself for whatever he would find. He ran in yelling, only to find–

“Dude!” Ned threw his hands up in surrender, dropping a pizza box. “It’s just me!”

Peter pulled off his mask and fell into the living room chair.

“I told you I was coming. You _replied._ ” Ned pulled his phone out of his pocket and read Peter’s text back to him “‘see you soon.’”

Peter groaned. “I just, I figured you’d knock? How did you get in?” He stood back up to check the front door lock.

“May gave me a key!” Ned grinned.

“What? When?”

“Like a month ago? She said I was over here so often that I might as well have a key.” He picked up the pizza and put it on the kitchen counter. “By the way, I’m spending the night. Cleared it with my mom and everything.”

“Dude, you know I love you, but I gotta ask May first, and she’s working until two.”

“She said it was cool when I texted her earlier.” He grabbed a slice and sat on the couch.

“Okay, when did you become better friends with my aunt than I am?”

Ned shrugged. “She’s a cool lady.”

“Okay. So you’re spending the night.” He grabbed the pizza and started walking back to his room. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

Peter detached his web shooter from the suit and pulled up a 3D map of the tracking device he had stuck to the henchman. He offered it to Ned, who dropped his backpack and ran over.

“This is awesome!”

“I know, right?” Ned poked at the hologram and it zoomed in.

“They’re in Brooklyn.” Peter pointed.

Ned gasped and abandoned the web shooter. “Your hand! It looks even worse. Dude that’s gross. Did something else happen?”

Peter tried to brush it off. “It’s fine. It’s just getting worse before it gets better.”

Ned did not look convinced. “So if I open up Twitter right now, I’m not going to see a new video of you doing something stupid with your damaged hand.” He reached into his pocket.

“Well…”

“Peter! You have to take care of yourself.”

He looked offended. “I take care of myself!”

Ned was already on his phone. “You got _hit_ by a car.”

“Carefully.” Peter countered. Ned rolled his eyes.

“We’re treating that. Now. You go get ice. I’m getting something to splint it with.”

Peter begrudgingly complied, coming back with a ziplock bag full of ice cubes. He found Ned poking around the medicine cabinet, before he pulled out medical tape. The good thing about living with a nurse was that medical supplies were always on hand.

They both sat back down on Peter’s bed.

“Put the ice on it.” Ned ordered. “Now rudimentary Googling and my extensive time in the Boy Scouts–”

“You were a Boy Scout for like two years!”

“That’s two more than you. Like I was _saying_ , I think we need to tape it to the other finger with something to hold it in place.” He dug through his bag while he spoke. “Aha!”

“A pencil?” Peter was less than impressed.

“A pencil.” Ned answered, snapping it in half so it was roughly the same length as Peter’s finger. He took the ice off Peter’s hand, and bound the fingers with the tape.

“Thank you Doctor McCoy.” Peter joked.

“You’re welcome Captain Kirk. You should really get that looked at though.” Peter glared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay, okay.”

“Look.” Peter deflected, “They’re moving again.”

Ned grabbed the web shooter. “Staten Island.”

The two watched the dot travel across the map slowly until Peter finally spoke up. “We should do homework.”

Peter grabbed his backpack. Ned grabbed another slice of pizza. 

“Did you do the pre-cal yet?”

“No. Why?”

“Thirty-seven problems.”

Peter groaned.

The two of them worked in relative quiet, stopping to ask each other questions occasionally.

“Dude!” Ned shouted, breaking the silence.

Peter jumped up. “What?”

“I forgot I brought chips!” He said brightly, pulling Doritos from his bag.

Peter burst out laughing. “You fucking scared me!”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time the sun went down, the hologram showed the tracker leaving New Jersey. All their homework was done long ago, and Ned had spent the last hour doing something on his phone.

“What are you up to?” Peter crawled across the ceiling, trying to get a look, but Ned turned his phone face down.

“I already told you dude, it’s nothing.”

“Mhm,” Peter dropped onto the bed. “ _Nothing_ is code for something secret.”

Ned actually laughed. “Yeah, _you_ have no right to give me a hard time for keeping secrets.”

“Fair enough.” He conceded. 

Peter ate the last slice of Pizza and inspected his finger. It was kind of hard to see, but it looked less purple, and it was definitely less swollen.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“They just passed Philadelphia.” Ned called into the bathroom, where Peter was brushing his teeth.

Peter poked his head back into the room to see Ned sitting on his bed, wearing his mask. “Really?”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ned was lying down on Peter’s bed, staring absently at the tracker. Peter was humming something that sounded vaguely like Coldplay and editing his history paper. The hologram started to beep.

“They’re stopped!”

Peter, all too happy to have an excuse to stop working, walked over.

“Maryland?”

Ned nodded. “What’s there?”

“I don’t know. Evil lair?”

"They have a lair?"

“Dude. A gang with alien guns run by a guy with wings? Yeah, they have a lair.”

Ned looked thrilled. “Badass. But how are you gonna get there if it’s, like, 300 miles away?”

Peter thought for a second, looking at the mess of papers Ned had dumped out of his backpack in his quest to find Doritos. “It’s not too far from D.C.”

“What?”

Peter picked up Ned’s Academic Decathlon permission slip and held it out. 

“Oooh.” Ned started to nod. “Wait what?”

“If I rejoin the Decathlon team, I can go with you guys to D.C. and then sneak off to the lair!”

“Oooh.” Ned nodded again. “But wait, we had to register for this trip like three weeks ago–”

“Which I _did_ , before I left the team. Besides, Harrington loves me.”

“That’s kind of true. He asks about you at _least_ once a practice.”

“I’ll ask him tomorrow after class. Plus, May’s been asking me about rejoining extracurriculars. She’ll be really happy to have me going.”

Ned caught Peter up on everything he knew about the trip until Peter heard the door open. He looked over at his alarm clock and saw how late it was.

“Shit!” He flew across the room and hit the lights. Both of them laid down and pretended to sleep.

May opened the door softly and padded across the floor. She lent over Peter’s face and pressed a soft kiss into his forehead. “Good night Peter. I love you.”

When the door closed back, Peter rolled over to find Ned was already asleep.

“Good night May. Good night Ned.” He whispered, as he closed his eyes.


	17. Peter, You're Back on the Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I really thought the plot of Homecoming would take me like two chapters, max. But here we are, like 9 chapters later and I'm only like half done??? I'm a train wreck, but at least the train wreck uploaded twice in one week...
> 
> Love y'all, comment away!

Peter woke up early and wanted to go patrol, but at some point during the night Ned had put his arm around Peter and he didn’t think he could get out without waking him, so he sat there and thought about life instead. 

He thought about May and how hard she worked to take care of him. He wondered again if he was doing the right thing by keeping Spider Man a secret. He thought about Ben and how much he missed him. He thought about Tony Stark and the way he walked into Peter’s life and turned him into a pawn in the Avengers’ battle before walking back out and telling him he wasn’t good enough. He got mad. 

But then he looked over at Ned’s sleeping face and all he thought about was how lucky he was to have a friend like that.

Finally, Peter’s alarm went off, waking Ned. When they left his room they found May already awake after less than five hours since she got home, making them toast and eggs.

“Morning boys.” She pulled a pair of cups out of the cupboard.

“Good morning May!” Ned grabbed the cups and filled them with tap water.

Peter walked over to where she was motioning for a hug. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did. You– Peter what happened to your hand?” He cursed inwardly. He forgot to take off Ned’s makeshift splint. He was about to say something when Ned stepped in.

“Oh that was me. I’m practicing my first aid skill.” He smiled. “I want to get my CPR certification next.”

The worry in her face turned to a soft smile. “That’s great Ned. First aid is a good skill to have. How long are you planning on keeping that on Pete?”

He sat down at the table and slowly unwrapped the gauze. When he flexed his finger, it hurt a little, but at least it wasn’t purple anymore. He shot May a smile, and she plated up their breakfast.

When she turned around Ned whispered. “Is your finger okay?”

Peter nodded and held his hand out. Ned took it, staring. 

“That is still _so_ cool!”

May handed them breakfast and turned to leave.

“Hey May?”

“Yeah?” She turned back around.

“I was thinking about rejoining the Decathlon team.”

“Really?”

Ned started crunching his toast.

“Yeah, I mean, I just really miss it.”

She paused for a second. “Isn’t the tournament this Wednesday? Are you sure they’re accepting people right now?” She said slowly, like she didn't want him to be disappointed.

Ned swallowed. “We’re not really taking _new_ people, but Peter’s not new. Everyone on the team really misses him.”

“And my scholarship would cover the cost of the trip.” Peter was quick to add.

“Well… I did say you should be more involved in extracurriculars. If you want to join back up and they’ll let you, then I’m all for it.”

“Yes!” The boys cheered in unison.

“But Peter.” He turned to look at her. “You’re making a commitment here. If you join back up, then you need to commit to staying for the rest of the year. Okay?”

“Thank you Aunt May.” 

She nodded with a smile. “Now eat up. You guys need to head out soon.” She said, glancing at her watch.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Peter spent all morning anxiously waiting for third period to end. Physics was his last class before lunch, which gave him the perfect opportunity to ask Mr. Harrington to let him back on the team. He had been practicing his speech in his head obsessively. It was very compelling. Now all he had to do was ask. 

He walked up to the desk and cleared his throat.

“Peter. Need something?”

He bounced on the balls of his feet. “Actually, yeah. I was really hoping you would let me rejoin the Academic Decathlon team.”

“Sure.”

“It’s just that I’ve been struggling to find a good school work balance with the Stark Internship, but I’ve come to see that– wait did you say yes?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He picked up a stack of homework papers and put them into his bag. “It’s a public club that anyone can join. There’s no barrier to entry.”

“Oh.” Peter stopped bouncing.

“Plus, you never officially resigned. I just put it down as a leave of absence.” He looked up at Peter. “You don’t look happy to hear that?”

He shook his head. “No, no. It’s just, I expected more push back is all.”

“Peter,” The man stood up. “You’re a good kid. I’ll email you the forms this afternoon. Now let’s go to lunch.”

They walked out into the hallway where Ned was waiting for them.

“So?”

Peter just nodded.

“Yes!”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day was mostly a blur, except for one moment in history, when Flash actually apologized for hitting Peter with his book.

“I was out of line. I took it too far.”

Peter laughed.

“You and me, we’re always competing for stuff, and sometimes I get too into it.” Peter chose not to comment on the fact that it was actually just _Flash_ who was competing for things, Peter was just living his life. He nodded instead.

“I just– I want us to be better. Bury the hatchet?” He gave a half smile.

“I’m not going to tell the principal.”

Flash visibly relaxed into his seat. “Oh thank God!”

Peter rolled his eyes and turned back around. He knew an apology from Flash was too good to be true. Still, it felt like there might be a little bit of something sincere in there.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

May had filled out all the paperwork, Peter had packed his bags, and he was walking up to the bus. 

Abe saw him first. “Hey, it’s Peter.”

He waved. “Guys.”

Liz stood up a little straighter. “Peter?”

He gave her a nervous grin. “Yeah, I was hoping maybe I could rejoin the team.”

That was when Flash stepped in between them. “No, no way. You can’t just quit on us, stroll up, and be welcomed back by everyone.”

Peter wanted to remind him that just yesterday he had wanted to call a truce, but before he could, Mr. Harrington stepped off the bus. “Hey, welcome back, Peter. Flash, you’re back to first alternate.”

“What?” He growled.

Abe laughed. “He’s taking your place.”

Peter expected Flash to look furious, but honestly, he looked sad.

Flash shoved his team jacket into Peter’s arms and got onto the bus.

Peter wanted to say something but didn’t know what. So he just stood there until Mr. Harrington called them all onto the bus.

He took the seat in front of Ned, who was busy talking to Cindy. In the back of the bus, Flash was sitting by himself, not looking up from his phone. 

Peter watched him until the bus started to move. He couldn’t stand it anymore, so he walked back towards him.

“Come to gloat, Penis?” Flash snapped with more growl than bite.

“I’m telling Harrington to take me out of the competition.” He held out Flash’s jacket.

He looked repulsed by it. “I don’t need your pity Parker.”

“It’s not pity.” Peter shrugged. “You deserve the spot on the competition team. You’ve been here, I haven’t.” 

Flash regarded him warily, but snatched the jacket away anyway. “Fine.”

As Peter was leaving he heard a muttered “Thanks.” that no normal human could have, but it was still there.

When he got back to his seat Ned was staring at him.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know. I just thought it was unfair that Flash has been here for every practice, and I just walked up and took his place.” 

Ned shook his head. “Peter, only _you_ could be concerned about being fair towards someone who regularly beats the crap out of you.”

“All right guys, listen up!” Liz called their attention to the front. “Only four hours until we’re in DC, and we’re going to make the most of it.

Charles and Abe both groaned as Liz started handing out the bells, but Flash moved up to sit with the group.

Peter gave Ned the tracker hologram and went to go talk to Mr. Harrington while Liz started calling out questions.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean, Peter?”

“I just mean, I think Flash has been here, putting in the work. He should get to compete. You can make me an alternate instead.”

“That’s actually...” He paused. “That’s really noble Peter. You know, you’re–”

He was cut off by Peter’s phone ringing. He was about to send it to voicemail when he saw who it was.

“I gotta take this. Sorry.”

He ducked to the back, where Ned had settled, watching the hologram and absently answering questions.

“Happy?”

“Got a blip on my screen here. You left New York?”

“Tracker.” He cursed to himself before putting his phone back to his ear. “Uh, yeah. No, it’s just a school trip. It’s, uh, it’s nothing.”

Peter could hear all sorts of chaotic noise in the background. “Look, Happy, I gotta say, you tracking me without my permission is a complete violation of my privacy.”

Ned held up their tracker with a confused look.

He shook his head. “That’s different.”

“What’s different?”

“Nothing! Look, it’s just the Academic Decathlon. It’s no big deal.”

“Hey, hey. I’ll decide if it’s no big deal.” 

“Tsk. Oh my God.” He muttered. 

“Sounds like it’s no big deal, but remember, I’m watching you.”

“Great. Hey, while I’ve got you on the–” Peter looked at his phone. “He hung up.”

“What did he want?”

“Wanted to know why I left the city. Apparently I need permission for that sort of thing.” He rolled his eyes.

“He probably has your best interests at heart, I mean–”

_DING_

“Strontium, Barium, Vibranium.”

“Very good, Peter. Glad to have you back.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tracker didn’t move from its position in Baltimore the entire ride down, but Ned still insisted on checking every ten minutes.

“I just want to be sure!”

“You just want to hold the web shooter.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right. It’s so cool!” He grinned

Peter found it entirely too endearing to mind.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they finally got into their hotel room, the first thing Peter did was hang the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and draw the curtains shut. 

“You brought your computer right?”

“Yeah? Why?” Ned asked, already pulling it out of his bag.

“We’re taking the tracker out of my suit.” Peter tipped his bag over, shaking everything out until he found the cord he was looking for. 

“And why are we doing that?” Peter plugged the suit into Ned’s computer.

“Uh, because I gotta follow these guys to their boss before they move again and I don’t really want Mr. Stark to know about it.” 

He looked over Ned’s shoulder at the complicated code, which was always more Ned’s area of expertise. 

Ned turned around to face him. “So you’re lying to Iron Man now?”

“No, I’m not lying. He just doesn’t really get what I can do yet.”

Ned didn’t look impressed by that explanation, but Peter chose to ignore that, and pull the little tracker off.

“All right, Happy. Enjoy tracking this lamp.”

Ned rolled his eyes and moved to close his computer, but something caught his eye.

“There’s a ton of other subsystems in here…”

“Hmmm?”

Ned smirked. “But they’re all disabled by the ‘Training Wheels Protocol’.”

“What?”

Sure enough, most of the suit’s code was disabled by some protocol Peter hadn’t even heard of.

“Turn it off.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, they’re probably blocked for a reason.” Peter had no interest in Ned’s logic.

“Come on, man. I don’t need training wheels. I’m sick of him treating me like a kid all the time. It’s not cool.” He grumbled.

“But you _are_ a kid.”

“Yeah, a kid who can stop a bus with his bare hands. Look, please. This is my chance to prove myself. I can handle it. Ned, come on.”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea...”

Peter leaned in and whispered. “Guy in the chair.”

“ _Man_.” Ned sighed and reluctantly typed something into his computer. 

The suit flashed blue, and Ned unplugged it. He picked it up and held it out to Peter, but before he could take it, Ned pulled it back.

“Be careful man.” His brow was furrowed.

“I will.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as Peter changed into his suit he was out the door. 

He ran into Liz in the hallway, and she practically begged him to join the team at the pool, which was a _compelling_ offer, but Peter had a job to do. He made up some excuse about needing to study, and hurried up to the roof, where he pulled on his mask to be greeted by a stranger’s voice.

“Good evening, Peter.”


	18. I'm Just Assuming You Remember What Happened in DC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
> ...hey
> 
> So I'm _not_ dead. I'm sorry this took me so long to post, the time just got away from me, and after a while I got all in my head thinking that no one even wanted me to come back. Then I remembered why I started writing this, and it wasn't really for you guys (though I adore and am so thankful for you). It was for me. It was so I could try something I'd never done before, and I was having fun with it before I left, so I wanted to come back to it.
> 
> I know this chapter isn't the best because I literally did not have it in myself to proofread it, but I wanted to put something out there to get myself started again. Thank you guys for everything.

“Wha– Hello?”

“Congratulations on completing the rigorous Training Wheels Protocol and gaining access to your suit’s full capabilities.”

His suit was talking to him. That was… new.

“Ah, thank you?” 

Maybe he and Ned should have spent a little longer looking at whatever they had enabled.

“So, where would you like me to take you tonight?” 

“Right.” He came out here for a reason. “S– I, I put a tracker on someone. He’s a bad guy.” 

“Tracker located. Plotting course to intercept target.”

And sure enough, the suit was displaying a red line that presumably led to the tracker.

“Thanks.” He swung off to follow it, giving the hotel one last look over his shoulder. 

“I’ll be back before the decathlon. Everything will be fine.”

After he fell into a comfortable rhythm, he started absentmindedly talking to himself.

“This is absolutely insane!”

“What’s insane, Peter?” _Oh right. There was someone else listening now._

“Oh, it’s…” He trailed off in favor of launching himself onto the back of an eighteen wheeler that was moving in the direction he needed to go. He stuck himself to the back and settled in. 

“Hey... who are you?”

“I am your suit’s AI system. Tony Stark created me to assist you in the field once you completed your training.”

“Right…” _He_ certainly wasn’t going to tell her that he hadn’t done that yet. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that the next few hours were a disaster, would be an understatement, but Peter didn’t have time to say much of anything since Karen (yes, he named the AI) informed him that the ‘glowy thingy’ that Ned had _in his backpack_ was actually “an explosive Chitauri energy core.” 

A bomb.

“Karen, you have to get me to Decathlon as fast as possible.”

“Sure thing. Just tell me where it is.”

“Right across the street from the Washington Monument.”

He took off running.

” _Hey, it’s Ned. Leave a message.”_ Of course he wasn’t picking up.

Peter leapt from truck to truck on the freeway back to the city, but none of them would move fast enough, and _no one_ would pick up their phone!

“It’s because they’re in the competition right now,” He explained to Karen (but mostly to himself). “Not because they’re all blown up. They’re fine.”

“If it helps, there have been no reports of any explosions in the city today.”

“It– actually that does help. Thank you.” He leapt onto a passing eighteen-wheeler. 

“Tell me if you hear anything?”

“Of course, Peter.”

He spent the rest of the trip repeating that conversation with Karen every five minutes until they reached their exit. Peter was just jumping onto a bus on the off ramp when–

“You have an incoming call from Ned Leeds.”

Peter had never pulled out his phone faster. “Oh, Ned, you’re alive!”

“Peter, where are you?”

“Ned, _Ned_ , where’s the glowy thing, the glowy thing?”

“Don’t worry, it’s safe. It’s in my backpack.” Ned whispered back, clearly not picking up on the urgency in Peter’s voice.

“No, Ned, listen! No, no, Ned, the glowy thing is dangerous.”

“You missed the Decathlon. I covered for you.”

“Ned listen to me!”

Ned didn’t listen because Liz took his cell phone, which only made things more chaotic. Peter was trying desperately to get her to hand the phone back to Ned, she was busy chewing him out for missing the tournament, and Karen was trying to give him dating advice: “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Peter wanted to scream.

He was still in his suit when he got to the monument. He needed to find a place to ditch it fast so that he could get inside and get that energy core back from Ned before it— 

“No, no, no. Karen, what’s going on up there?”

“The Chitauri core has detonated and caused severe structural damage to the elevator.”

That was when he noticed Michelle standing to his right. “My friends are up there!”

_Shit_.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bus ride back to Midtown was filled with the weirdest mix of emotions. Peter sat at the front of the bus, watching it all unfold among his classmates.

“We’re famous now.” Charles told Betty.

She was on the phone with Jason demanding that her co-host was there to film when the bus got back. “We cannot miss this story. Just promise me you’ll be there.”

“No, mom I know, I promise that I’m–” Ned’s mom hadn’t stopped talking to him for a second of the past hour.

Liz was silent, holding onto their first place trophy like it was the only thing tethering her to Earth. Michelle sat behind her consumed with her sketchbook.

Peter didn’t say anything during Mr. Harrington’s lecture on personal responsibility. It was clear his heart wasn’t in it, not after everything that had happened today. “Two weeks detention is more than fair Peter. I’m glad you’re feeling better, Ned said you were pretty sick this morning.”

“Yes sir.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

May’s hug when he got off that bus was all consuming and somehow still not enough.

His texts to Happy still went unanswered.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a _week_ since the incident at the Washington Monument, and it was still radio silence from Happy. Peter sent another text.

Since it was a Sunday morning Peter didn’t have detention, and it had been a slow day in terms of patrol, so he was sitting on someone’s fire escape talking to Karen.

“Listen, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm trying to figure out who the guys under the bridge were that night, but I mean, I can only kind of remember part of a license plate.”

“I can run facial recognition on the footage of that encounter.” 

He was surprised by all the pictures and dates flashing up on his eye displays. “Footage?”

“Yes Peter. I record everything you see.”

“...Everything?”

“Everything.” She affirmed.

“Like… all the time?”

“It’s called the ‘Baby Monitor Protocol.’”

He threw his head back and let out a breath. “Yeah, of course it is. Um, yeah, just roll it back to last Friday.”

It took a little searching, but eventually they found the clip, sent a message to Happy, and Spiderman was on his way to talk to one Aaron Davis.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Staten Island Ferry. Eleven.”

“Oh, that's soon.” He started to run off, but turned back around to where he had webbed Aaron Davis’ hand to the trunk of his car. “Hey, that's gonna dissolve in two hours.”

“No, no, no, no. Come fix this.”

“Two hours. You deserve that.”

“I got ice cream in here.” He sounded exasperated, but Peter was in a hurry. The ferry would be here in less than an hour.

“You deserve that. You're a criminal. Bye, Mr. Criminal.” He waved as he left, _finally_ feeling like he was making progress.

Peter got out his phone to update Happy again when he saw the text.

**Happy** 10:18 AM

I thought I told you to quit bothering me about this, but here you are, still texting me.

**Happy** 10:19 AM

It's moving day. I don't have time for this.

Peter shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Fine. If Mr. Stark doesn’t want to help, I’ll do it myself. Karen. Quickest route to the docks.”

“Sure thing Peter.”

Peter felt pushed around and ignored one too many times, so if his actions got a little bit ahead of his thoughts right now, who could blame him?

  
  



	19. Regular Old Peter Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I have no concept of time. I thought I had _just_ updated, but it turns out it has been over two weeks??? I'm so sorry to anyone who I told that I would be updating sooner than this. My bad. This is another post it now, proofread it later chapter bc I'm tired, but I feel like I should get this out <3
> 
> Anyways, two more chapters until we're done with Homecoming, and so I come to y'all with a question: My plan past Homecoming is to transition into a tower fic, and I'm unsure whether it would be better to keep posting here, or to finish this fic, and make the tower fic the next part in a series of works. Do any of y'all have a preference? Should I keep adding chapters here or should I make a new work?

Tony Stark. As it turns out,  _ Tony Stark _ could blame him.

Peter replayed the conversation in his head a million times over on the walk home, trying to ignore how weird it felt to not be swinging.

_ “I’m gonna need the suit back.” _

_ “For how long?” _

_ “Forever.” _

Peter wished he had said something snappier, made some quick retort about how none of this would have happened if Happy would actually answer his texts, but the Tony Stark living in his head cut him off.

_ “And I wanted you to be better.” _

He pulled at the hem of the cheesy ‘I survived my trip to New York’ shirt that Mr. Stark had practically thrown at him.

_ “You don’t understand. Please. This is all I have. I’m nothing without this suit.” _

_ “If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it. Okay?” _

He wondered what Ben would say if he could see him now. If he would be upset, or if he would pull him close and tell him some story about ‘Parker luck.’ If he would tell him that everything would be okay.

He didn’t need to wonder what May would say. All he had to do was knock on the door he was currently staring at and he would know.

He stood there for a while before he did.

When she opened the door all he could do was whisper, “Hey.”

“I’ve been calling you all day. You didn’t answer your phone. You can’t do that. Then this ferry thing happens. I’ve called five police stations.”

He walked in behind her.

“Five. I called five of your friends.”

“I’m fine.” 

“I called Ned’s  _ mother _ .”

“May, I’m okay. Honestly. I’m okay.”

She whipped around and threw her hands up. “You. Cut the bullshit. I know you left detention. I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house every night. That’s not fine.” 

He looked down at his feet. 

“Peter, you have to tell me what’s going on. Just lay it out. It’s just me and you.”

“...I lost the Stark Internship.”

He could hear her sharp little breath. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

The rest of the conversation was hushed voices and soft hugs and I love yous until May called in sick to work and they both fell asleep watching some cheesy old movie pirated on YouTube.

"It's gonna be okay, Peter. You're gonna be okay." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After two massive incidents within two days of each other there was a huge influx of articles being written about Spiderman. Ned, ever the good friend, sent Peter all of them. 

He couldn’t bring himself to tell him about losing the suit. Not yet. So instead he smiled along and tried to ignore the stinging in his chest every time his phone buzzed.

He fell into the monotony of pop quizzes and decathlon practice.

“Mount Rushmore?”

Liz shook her head. “The answer was Yellowstone. If I roll two die consecutively, what is the probability that the sum will be more than 8?” 

*Ding*

“Abe?”

Mr. Delmar’s had its official reopening, and Peter’s bootleg repair shop was busier than ever.

“It’s good to see you niño. You keeping out of trouble?”

“As much as I can.”

Mr. Delmar laughed. “Good answer.”

May got every Thursday night off for the whole month, so they brought back family movie night. 

Plus, there was only a week left until Homecoming, and Peter still hadn’t decided if he was actually going to ask Liz yet. 

“But what’s the harm in asking?”

“What’s the harm?” Peter snorted. “Let’s see: she could laugh at me, she could tell all her friends, she could–”

“Mhm, mhm.  _ Or _ .” May pointed at him. “She could say yes!”

Peter just groaned and threw his head back overdramatically.

May held her hands up in mock defeat. “Okay, I get it. No more dating advice from stuffy old Aunt May.”

Peter smiled softly. “It’s your turn to pick the movie.”

With all of that combined, there was no  _ way _ Peter had time to be missing Spiderman (he did it anyways).

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It should be  _ easier _ now.” He tried desperately to reason with himself in frustrated whispers. 

It was the middle of the night, and Peter was still awake. He had all this new free time, and that  _ should _ make life easier. But it didn’t.

He felt like he was missing a part of himself.

The nightmares were back in full force. Now though, every time he got close enough to whoever he was trying to save, he would look down to see a stupid tourist trap tee shirt in place of his suit.  _ And I wanted you to be better _ . 

It was killing him.

And so, Peter Parker sat on his bed in the dark at two in the morning muttering to himself about how stupid he was.

The dumbest part of all was that he still had his old suit. He stored it with the extra web-fluid under a set of lockers at Midtown. He could pick it up whenever he wanted and be right back in business. 

“But instead you’re _ here _ . Throwing yourself a  _ pity party _ . In your pajamas.” He stared at his window. May would never even know; she had work until six. 

_ If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it. _

Maybe he shouldn’t. 

He laid back down. “Pathetic.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone until Michelle slid into the seat next to him at detention.

She just stared at him, so he offered her a half smile. “You come to sketch more ‘people in crisis’?”

“Nah. I came here to tell you that you’re pulling back from everyone. It's not like you.”

“What?”

She shrugged. “Look, something’s up with you, and if I’ve noticed it won’t be long before they do too.”

“I just… well I–”

“You’ve got good friends. Reach out.” She grabbed her bag and walked to the door. “ _T_ _ hink about it! _ ” She called over her shoulder as she left. 

“Hey! Come back here! You can’t–” Coach Wilson looked up. “...Oh. I guess she can.” He went back to reading.

As quickly as she had come, she was gone.

Since he was in detention with nothing but time to ‘think about it,’ that was exactly what he did.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He meant to text first. He really did, but now he was standing on Ned’s front porch and–

“Peter?”

“We need to talk.”

Ned stared at him for a second. “That’s ominous as hell. Come on in. You want a snack?”

“No. I’m good. Look Ned, I–” He chased him in.

“I’m getting you some pasta.” Ned called from the kitchen

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Well…” Peter paused. “I know how much you wanted to be my ‘guy in the chair,’ but I screwed it up. Now I’m just regular old Peter Parker again.”

Ned smiled at him.

“I like regular old Peter Parker. He’s pretty cool. And whenever he’s ready to get back out there, I’ll be his ‘guy in the chair’ again.”

  
  



End file.
